Pygmalion
by AnimeAries402
Summary: Everyone knows the origins of the jester who fell in love with her equally mad creator. But what if Harley Quinn was born without the assistance of the Joker? All of Gotham is the stage as two titans collide. And The Clown King declares that The Jester Queen is now his property. Death awaits anyone who tries to interfere, even the Jester Queen herself.
1. Chapter 1

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 **Pygmalion**

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Pygmalion

Classical Mythology. A sculptor and king of Cyprus who carved an ivory statue of a maiden and fell in love with it. It was brought to life, in response to his prayer, by Aphrodite.

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"Follow your inner moonlight; don't hide the madness." – Allen Ginsberg

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Sometimes, there were just really, _really_ bad days.

Those were the days where everything that happened was completely out of control. One thing lead to another, and finally everything went completely to hell. Despite the fact that all attempts were made to fix it, and the relentless uphill battle with fate to change things, it all turned out to be for nothing. Once everything is over, and the explosion of emotions has left only the feeling of emptiness behind, there is complete silence inside.

And then … the epiphany.

Maybe fighting the chaos wasn't the answer.

Instead, maybe embracing it was the solution.

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"Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring." – Marilyn Monroe

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Doctor Harleen Quinzel had done only a few things of note in her entire life-span. She followed the rules, obeyed orders and finally got to a point where she thought that she may actually be able to do some good. All that she had ever wanted in life was to exist as herself, never to affect others or the world. She was perfectly content to spend the rest of her life in the shadows, seeing as that was where she had been her entire life. There was a security in being somewhere that was familiar.

Then again, that was before she had a few thousand volts of electricity run through her head.

The wooded baseball bat made a sickening, dull scratching sound against the tile floor as she dragged it behind her. Grasping a hold of the door frame with her free hand, Harleen attempted to steady herself. The entire world was spinning no matter how hard she held onto the world around her. A dark red blood stain remained on the crisp, white tile walls as she released it and took another step forward.

Her head hurt, badly.

It literally felt like her brain was throbbing on the inside of her skull, blood pulsing through her system so mercilessly.

And it wasn't just because of the deafening sound of the blaring alarm going off all around her, or the flashing red lights that continued to interfere with her already blurry sight. Blinking rapidly, she attempted to halt the way her eyes continued to dart back and forth without her consciously moving them. Heart pounding, she could the metallic taste of blood was still in her mouth, despite the fact that her lips and tongue had stopped bleeding.

As she steered left and then to the right as she walked, she noticed that she couldn't prevent her legs from almost collapsing every time she took a step. Her stocking feet were mangled and torn, completely unaware of all the shards of glass that she was stepping over.

Her hair continued to keep falling into her face, paper-white locks still mangled and damp like the rest of her. But she didn't bother trying to brush them out of her face, because she knew that it would only result in her falling onto her face again. As she stumbled closer to her destination, she caught a glimpse of herself in the floorlength mirror that served as the wall.

If she hadn't been in so much pain, she probably would have stopped to stare; she didn't know if she recognized herself.

The pale, ghostly creature in the mirror was only a phantom of her former self. Her sandy blond hair and peach skin were gone. Dripping from head to toe with moisture, her bleach white skin and hair resembled nothing like her former self. She could see her breasts heaving as they practically fell out of what had been left of her shirt. The red silk had been melted down to only a sliver of material that barely preserved her modesty, and the wool skirt that had accompanied it was very much the same. What she could call stockings were only meagerly staying on her legs, as with each step she lost another piece of them.

Once she reached her destination, she didn't even bother looking up as she smashed a hole through the glass in her path. She reached her arm through the door and unlocked the door. There was yelling from someone in front of her.

 _Oh, just shut the hell up!_

She heard herself let out a sigh of relief when she saw the person fall over to the ground with a dull thud. The bat dropped out of her slippery hands with a dull thud as it snapped in two over. The sickening crunch of bone made her so giddy. Despite her pain, she surprised herself with how hard she's managed to hit the person over the head.

Just a thunk and a crack, and they were gone.

Hands came up to hold her down. They held her back from her destination, and all she could remember was that she wanted them to let go. She found herself crushing a nose with her elbow, slamming her head into another forehead before thrusting her heel into a diaphram. She was dropped onto her feet, and she felt laughter falling from her lips.

It felt so good to laugh.

Her broken bat was replaced with … a gun, so it appeared. As she raised it up in front of her and squeezed, the figures yelling at her all fell one right after another. Just a small "pop", and all the stupid, noisy people went away forever.

 _How glorious ..._

Her fingers finally rested onto a console of buttons, and she held onto the computer screen in front of her with two hands.

Now, where was that button again?

The alarms suddenly stopped, and there was a very awkward pause. She found a microphone in her hands, and pressed a button. The sound of her giggles echoed all around her and through the walls.

"Attention Arkham Patients," she found herself singing between her fits of laughter. "Harley Quinn here. For those of you not back in your cells by the time I find you, please know that you will be exterminated on the spot. Thank you for your cooperation."

 _Now, that hadn't been so hard, had it?_

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"I think the scariest person in the world is the person with no sense of humor." – Michael J. Fox

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Several weeks later.

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"Dr. Quinzel."

Silence.

"Dr. Quinzel."

Giggle.

"Dr. Quinzel!"

"There is no one here by that name … please call back later or leave a message at the beep—Beep!"

Pause.

"Ms. Quinn then. Did you comprehend anything about what I just said?"

Giggle.

"Something about an experiment, gangs and a city. Sounds very boring—why the hell should I care?"

"That is because if you agree to my terms, I will get them to let you out of this place."

Silence.

"No one knows you are here, Harley. Dr. Quinzel doesn't exist anymore, remember? If I ask them to, they will throw away the key and you'll be be staring at these walls for the rest of your life."

Silence.

"Do you want to stay in here, or would you like to go outside and have some fun?"

Giggle.

"You're gonna let me out to play? Last time I played, all of you got very mad."

"That will happen when you kill as many people as you did, Ms. Quinn."

Sigh.

"Why you gonna let me out, huh?"

"It usually takes days to take control of a prison after a riot. You gained control of the worst criminal mental institution in the world in three hours … by yourself."

Laugh.

"All by my lonesome."

"You singlehandedly disposed of over one hundred armed or dangerous men, all while recovering from electric shock exposure."

Giggle.

"Was it really so few? It felt like more . . ."

"I am not a patient person, Ms. Quinn. The only reason you aren't in jail is because of my influence. I am giving you one chance to take my proposal; take the deal, and you will be able to walk the streets freely. Leave it, and I will not be asking again."

Pause.

"Okay, lady, I'll bite, but I have one … teeny, itty-bitty … condition."

Silence.

" _You_ stay the hell out of my way."

" … Done."

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"Nothing is perfect. Life is messy. Relationships are complex. Outcomes are uncertain. People are irrational." – Hugh Mackay

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Some time later.

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Harley Quinn unloaded her sawed-off shot gun into security guard's abdomen and he fell over in a pool of blood. She erupted with laughter and clapped her hands together, practically jumping up and down with excitement.

"Another one bites the dust!" she sang, dancing triumphantly.

A man who could only be described as a mountain came up beside her. Adorned with a blue and red diamonded mask, he carried a large barrel over his shoulder. "Where do you want this, boss?"

The bubbly blonde bashed another guard over the head with a large mallet, a smilie face the last thing the man saw before his brains were smashed over the floor. With a skip and a hop, Harley hop-scotched over to the small table in the center of the room.

She pushed off whatever it was on top before gently plopping herself down smoothly, making sure not to ruffle her skirt as she did so. The sheer black, gold-diamonded patterned fabric was delicate afterall. Besides her leather jacket, it was the only thing covering her bright red push up bra and bright blue booty shorts. Sure she had a bright red garter belt to hold up her studded black stockings, but that didn't count.

As she made sure her outfit was as perfect as could be, Harley took evaluation of the situation in front of her with a pondering stare.

Looking around the large vault they were currently occupied, Harley had three new doors to choose from. Hm … decisions, decisions.

"Hm," she muttered, pointing between them. "Diamonds, gold, or … mystery?" she asked herself, pointing between the three. With an exagerated sigh, she finally picked one. "Oh, right over there, Monty," she finally pointed to the third door to the right. It wasn't like it mattered anyway. "I guess that's a good place as any."

Monty and two other hulking figures in matching attire prompty set their barrels down in the corner. Once upright, the markings of TNT in bright, bold scribbled letters could be seen.

Harley giggled as she anticipated the "boom!" that was bound to come any moment now.

As her goons lit led out the detonation wire and hooked it up to the little box, Harley sat on the desk practically dancing as she hummed to herself. "Is it set up yet?"

"Almost, boss," answered another one. She was sure that one was Lenny—or at least that's what she'd started calling him that morning.

Almost dancing in her place on the desk, while she waited, Harley decided to flip around onto her stomach and kick her heels into the air. She smiled at the work in front of her. It was so nice to have some muscle around to do the heavy lifting. She'd have to get more with their score today. Placing her head in her propped up hands, she continued to kick her legs up and down, but she had to remember to be careful.

The red and blue diamond-beaded sandals were just so pretty, that she couldn't help but customize them with a few razor blades on the heels. It had been such a lovely morning, she didn't want to spoil it with hurting herself—as they had killed so many of the guards with them just a little while ago. As she kicked, it could be seen that her left shoe was red while the right was blue, perfect to match her outfit that morning.

As her goons made the final touches for the explosives, Harley sat up and comically placed her fingers into her ears. Only as the handle lowered, Harley pouted when nothing happened.

"What the hell!?" she exclaimed, jumping down from the desk. Her goons began arguing with each other. She retrieved a random pistol from the floor and released the safety, shooting a few rounds into the ceiling. With hands on her hips, she bent forward slightly as she held a finger up to scold. "Which one of you idiots forgot the gunpowder?"

Before the dozen of them could come up with some kind of reply to save their lives, there was a bang from behind them, followed by a series of gunshots.

 _Hey, wait a minute—that wasn't the plan!_

"Vinny!" Harley suddenly shouted.

"Yeah boss?" grunted the largest of the body-builders. He was the one holding the detonation box and a walkie-talkie on his shoulder.

She snatched the walkie from him without another look, and shouted into it. "Freddy! I thought I told you to stay in the van with the puppies!"

Muscle yes, brains no—this hadn't been the first time they disobeyed an order.

There was static from the other side before a pause. "I am in the van, Ms. Quinn," came the sound of a distressed Freddy from the other side. From the engine and yips in the background, she could tell he was telling the truth.

"Then who the hell is—?"

With a few more gunshots, Harley practically fumed when she suddenly heard the alarms going off.

Damnit!

This was supposed to be covert!

If Freddy was still in the van, and the others were with her—all seven of them, right? One, two, twelve—who the hell was shooting the place up?

"Freddy! Change of plans! Bring in Momma's babies inside the back!" Throwing the walkie to the ground with a snap, it shattered before Freddy could reply. Harley stomped her foot in disgust. "Shorty!" she commanded, holding out her hand. "My baseball bat!"

Shorty appeared; a little smaller than the others, but he was holding a majority of Harley's own weapons. He detached the colored baseball bat from his back and placed it in her hand. As she stormed off out the vault door, Shorty made sure to collect all of her other weapons she discarded onto the floor.

Harley stopped when none of the other ones followed her. "You coming or what?" she asked innocently.

The men dropped the explosives and gathered all their weapons from the ground as they followed her.

Exiting the glowing lights from the vault, they passed through the small trail of bodies that they had left behind while getting to their target. Instead of heading out the door in which they came, Harley headed straight for the front of the large executive bank.

As they passed through the doors and into the main lobby, she couldn't help but notice that very few people—there were a lot, since there was all that screaming—noticed that they had arrived.

A gorgeous half-naked blonde and twelve blulking men in masks walked in the room, and they got no attention?

What the hell?!

This was nine o'clock in the morning—where was everybody?

Heading over to the balcony to overlook the doors, she finally noticed what it was that was causing all the commotion. Over a dozen more men, all in various and childish costumes—not the nice uniforms she adorned her own men with—were all holding machine guns and had them trained on what was left of the helpless citizens in the bank. They had scurried them into the corner like the rats they were.

"Monty?" Harley asked curiously. If anyone would know it was him; he was the smartest of their little group.

"Yeah, boss?"

"Do they work for us?"

Harley held out her hand to Shorty, who promptly dropped her favorite hand gun into her palm, which she exchanged for her baseball bat. So much for using her favorite weapon.

"No."

Without another glance, she cocked her gun.

"Good, then—we can kill them."

Now … who was giving these guys their orders?

Harley noticed a flash of color and several of the badly uniformed goons crowded around a single figure as he stepped over the guards' bodies lying all over the floor.

That must have been him.

Who was this fool? Didn't he know that she was robbing this bank first?

Waiting for silence to take over, Harley instructed half her goons to encircle the balcony from above as Monty, Shorty and she snuck down the stairs. Although she kept her head down to stay out of sight, she didn't instruct the others to do so. They didn't do subtle anyway. She giggled silently with anticipation. She couldn't wait for the blood to start flowing again.

She analyzed the ragged looking troup; they weren't even taking jewelry or wallets. What kind of professionals were they? They weren't even going behind the counter for money. It looked like most of them had gathered in one of the offices off to the side. What the hell did they want in there?

Removing the leather jacket from her shoulders, to reveal Harley made sure to adjust her red and blue bows on her pigtails.

She found a shiny glass wall to look over her makeup.

Red and blue eyes, check.

Bright red lips, check.

Heart tattoo under her eye, check.

She had to look her best to for her entrance—she may get a new playmate.

Just then, she saw Freddy emerge from the back doors with her two babies on leashes. The two albino hyenas supported pink and blue dyed manes, respectively. Their muzzles were adorned with diamonds and their names engraved into the gold; Punch and Judy. The two animals perked up when they saw their Mama.

Taking the leads from Freddy, Harley gave Shorty her bat while she unhooked her babies' muzzles. They couldn't play this way. With their mouths free, they couldn't help but start chuckling like their mistress.

With a snap of her fingers, the animals jumped up onto the counter before Harley. She let Shorty hold her jacket as Monty pushed her up onto the counter in front of the large mass of people cowering for their lives in the corner. Clacking her heels on the glass marble, she took a dramatic turn and raised her gun to the air and let off all the rounds into the ceiling. Punch and Judy simply wagged their tails as they eagerly anticipated their next meal.

There was screaming and terror coming from the crowd as the large chandelier in the center of the room crashed down. The badly dressed goons pointed their guns in her direction as she cocked her head to the side. While Shorty refilled her gun, she waved at them with a charming smile.

"Hi boys!" she greeted. Once she took back her gun and cocked it, she pointed it towards them. Her babies added to the tension with their giggles. "Which one of you assholes is in charge here?"

For a moment there was a pause. Harley couldn't discern reactions since all of these goons were completely masked; unlike the half masks on her men.

What the hell were they all staring at?

Harley suddenly realized they were looking behind her. Turning around swiftly, she made sure to keep her babies on the goons as she did so.

Their leader had just emerged from one of the offices towards the back, standing in front of another small group of goons.

Despite the fact that he wore such a startling shade of deep purple, the pinstripe suit that he was wearing was rather normal. There were only a few alterations that made it look odd. The long coat that matched the suit was expertly tailored, the silk black shirt underneath opened almost all the way down his front, revealing the starkness of his white skin and all the tattoos adorning his skin.

Bright, almost neon green hair was slicked back carefully with no hair out of place. More tattoos were scattered all over his face that was even more accentuated by the bright red lipstick adorning his face. Heavy gold chains decorated his neck, and diamonds were in his ears. A completely jewel amethyst cane was held in front of him in both of his ringed hands. Highly polished bright purple Italian leather shoes were on his feet.

His darkened and hollowed eyes were staring at her with an empty glare.

Images flashed in front of Harley's eyes as her brain registered who the man was in front of her. A profiled picture and a number formed in front of her for a split second before disappearing. She knew exactly who this person was; he was the clown king of Gotham himself.

The Joker.

A criminal that was so mysterious that not a single person knew his real name.

Harley had seen him many times before; the amount of times was countless. In her past life, it was a common occurance. However, this was the closest she had ever come to him, the first time that she was going to speak directly to him.

The king of all insanity right before her.

He had such an intimidating presence, something Harley could never deny. Just his mere presence in standing there was enough to darken the atmosphere in the room. The mad energy seemed to radiate from his body.

Inwardly, Harley was bursting with excitement.

Finally, a challenge!

She restrained her shiver in anticipation—she couldn't wait to bash his face in!

Although all these things raced through her mind, it took barely a nanosecond before Harley reacted.

She knew exactly what she was going to do; she had anticipated coming in contact with someone this big for months now. And her chance had finally come.

Harley pulled onto her face the most playfully innocent smile she could muster, all while taking one of the most sensual poses she had developed. "Hi there!" she beamed. Her expression darkened only slightly as she cocked her head to the side. "You must be Mistah Jay!"

She saw his eyes darken at her nickname.

Harley smiled inwardly.

 _Good._

With a snap of her fingers, the rest of her men she had circling the balcony above appeared and focused their guns on the armed goons. They reacted with hesitation accordingly.

 _Perfect._

But as they were backing down, Harley suddenly heard Judy snarling beside her. A goon was obviously getting too bold. Without looking away from the clown king Harley promptly raised her large pistol and shot the goon straight in between the eyes.

Only after she had fired did she turn to glare at the goon. "I was talking!" she shouted as the corpse fell over.

The goon fell over with a thud, and the purple-suited gang leader's expression suddenly turned. Gone was the menacing scowl that he used to bore into her flesh, and it was replaced with something Harley could not pinpoint exactly. Something appeared in his eyes, and Harley had the slight nagging feeling in the back of her mind that this may not have been the wisest of her ideas.

If she had to guess, she would say his mood was a mix of amused and impressed.

At least, that is what she wanted.

The nagging feeling in the back of her mind was pushed completely out of her brain as she inhaled the scent of gunpowder and blood, the sensation rushing throughout her body. Her annoyance resurfaced.

She was robbing this bank first—she had gotten there and was already in the vault when these fools had to go and ruin things!

That was not how things worked!

She was not going to take this shit from anyone!

And it was about time _they_ knew this.

The Joker tilted his head to the side. "This is what happens when you don't schedule an appointment, boys," he drawled over his shoulder to his own men. He turned back to Harley and a smile crept up onto his mouth, lips parting to reveal his sliver smile.

 _As silver as his tongue._

His voice was like silk against velvet, so smooth that it could probably soothe just about anyone into a stupor if it wasn't for the fact that behind that voice was the primal and horribly terrifying tone of one of the most notorious sociopaths to ever walk the planet.

Harley knew she had to tread lightly with him, but then again, she was no push over either.

"Well, sweetheart," the clown drawled, taking a few steps closer to her. She could feel his intense gaze on her form, and made absolutely no reaction despite how much she felt her insides curl around. She didn't know if it was fear, but she knew it was a foreign sensation. Joker lived up to his reputation. Standing right beneath her, he cocked his head to the side. "You know my name, but I don't seem to know yours."

If there was one thing she knew about this sociopath, she knew that he couldn't stand it when people stood up to him. Harley knelt down on the counter to come closer to his eye level. As she did, she took his face into full view to evaluate it.

To be perfectly honest, he was not the scariest looking person she had ever seen. Sure the lack of eyebrows against the paleness of his white skin was a little unsettling, but this did not make him scary. As she took in his face, she could see the contours and definitions of his face; his face was even and his jaw cut. Not even the darkness around his eyes or smeared red lipstick made him terrifying either.

It was the mere soul that laid behind those startling blue eyes.

The soul of a man who was mad ... and who liked it.

With her face only a few feet in front of him, Harley cocked her head to the side. "Maybe I don't wanna tell you mine," she muttered in a babied tone, pouting.

His tone immediately darkened; he didn't like that answer.

 _Good._

She noticed how brightly blue his eyes were as he wracked them over her form wickedly before looking back up to her own eyes. His jaw flexed as he gave her a scowl, restraining the snarl on his lips. "You trying to steal my schtick?"

It was obvious that he was referring to the paleness of her crisp white skin. His own complexion was a little paler than her own, but then again he had some chemical enhancement.

She was au naturale.

Harley giggled before batting her eyelashes. "Of course not, Puddin'," she teased as she adjusted herself into a sitting position on the counter. As she registered her newest nickname for him, Harley made sure to cross her legs prominently. She curled her finger towards herself, summoning Shorty to her side. Harley absently played with the bells adorning his tri-pointed mask as she took her baseball bat back.

She then looked Joker in the eye again. "You're a clown—I'm a jester."

With a snap, she sent Shorty away and heard the pounding feet of her babies. They jumped up on the counter beside her, cackling as they paced the span of counter they had kept for themselves.

"So, no name then?" Joker prodded. He didn't even flinch as the two wild animals paced the room.

Rolling her eyes, Harley snarled briefly, taking on the annoyed tone.

She was tired of playing cute.

Holding firm on the edge of the marble, she lunged forward in a jerky motion to place her face inches from her own. "Call me Miss Robbing-The-Bank-First," she growled at him.

Within the next second, Harley snapped backwards again, but this time didn't stop as she pulled her feet up and jumped back up, making sure to accentuate all her derrier prominently as she stood. If it was one thing that henchmen liked distracting them, it was a nice ass.

Boldly taking a stance, she raised her arms up behind her head, running her fingers through her dyed pigtails. "And unlike you, my this happens to be my natural color," she annouced proudly, holding her arms out as she showed off her body.

She made a sharp turn to the right as she walked away, the razorblades on her heels clicking with each step. "I don't care if you are the "king of Gotham"," she started, accentuating her words by making quotations with her fingers. She then placed her hands on her hips, facing him. "This is just plain rude."

As she whipped around, Harley paused.

He was no longer looking at her in the face, and his darkened expression had gained a twinge of merriment. Harley couldn't help but notice the ever so small grin on the edges of his roughly-painted red lips, as his eyes bored into her figure. Starting from her feet, his eyes traced every one of her curves, resting on her behind and chest before tracing her neck.

And then, his eyes went directly back to the bright blue, shiny pair of tiny shorts revealing more of her hieny then covering it.

Her brown wrinkled.

What the hell was he looking at?

This was the Joker, the epitomy of all things insane and deadly. And never once in his career had he ever made any inclination for appreciating anything … physical. Actually, if Harley recalled correctly, she knew several individuals that would die to claim that this infamous clown was either inclined towards the same gender, or he simply didn't care about the idea whatsoever. She had been in the latter party, even if she never brought that theory to words.

As she stare at him in front of her for a few seconds blinking in confusion, trying to figure out if the Joker was actually staring at her body or not, a thought hit her.

Wait a minute—if he was looking, then had he even heard a damned word she just said?

"Oi!" she snapped, she shaking her gun in his direction. "My eyes are up here," she snapped, using her two fingers to point at them.

He smiled evilly once again and stared her in the eyes again. "So they are," he breathed gutturally.

Harley felt her eyes widen intensely.

What just happened?

Almost as swiftly as she had done, before Harley could fathom it, the clown handed over his cane to one of his goons and jumped up on the counter himself. Marching right up to her, Harley was thrust back into the present. As her babies growled at him and blocked his way, she took on a defensive stance.

However, the Joker simply kicked the two hyena out of the way. As Punch and Judy fell onto the floor whimpering, Harley made sure to be sure they were both undamaged before she felt her eyes glaze over.

Red and blue appeared before her eyes.

That was it!

Harley had done it before she even had the rationale to stop herself. She felt her knuckles come in contact with bone, and suddenly the colors in her vision seeped away. As her fist pulled back from his jaw, the Joker had only turned his head ever so briefly to the side.

"Do you have any idea how rare albino hyena are!?" she screamed, chest heaving in fury.

Harley was seething.

 _How dare he?!_

 _Those were her babies!_

It was becoming even more obvious of her growing rage as she used the momentum of her punch to raise her other hand in order to smack him this time.

But his hands were quicker. It didn't take him any effort to clutched ahold of her small wrist in his large cool hands, a vice grip that was needlessly going to leave bruises.

His head had still been turned away, but as he gripped her he slowly turned it back to face her again. A small amount of blood dripping from his lips, a sinking feeling stabbed at Harley's stomach as she saw the preditorial hunger in his eyes.

 _Uh oh._

She had done more than rattle his cage.

If he had eyebrows, the Joker would have raised them with the expression of a grin on his face. "You know, that kinda hurt," he growled.

She should have seen the next thing coming. She should have braced herself. However, stupidly Harley ignored all those voices in the back of her mind.

What did they know anyway?

The sting of his palm against her own face was harsh. She tasted the iron as the liquid ran from her lips as her head was jerked to the side. Her body flung to the ground, and she landed on the hard floor with a thud.

 _Wow._

That _did_ hurt.

All was silent for a few seconds as Harley simply laid there on the floor, slumped over as her hair fell loose from the bows. She felt her body begin to shake violently as she allowed the laughter to overcome her body.

Harley felt her vision blur over. It was coming, the colors and the lights that blinded her. Harlequin was taking over again. And instead of restraining it like she'd always done, this time she embraced it.

She stayed firmly planted on the ground as she picked her head up from the ground turned her gaze to the clown who was towering above her, making sure he saw the derranged look on her face. She couldn't see his face her vision was so blurry, but she knew he was looking at her.

"Oh, Puddin'," she egged quietly. "It is … on!"

With one swift whistle, she unleashed her babies onto the goons. The only thing from them was growling and snarling as they started ripping one apart.

Without so much of a warning, Harley felt the trigger of her gun come closer to her hand as she flipped up onto her feet in one swift movement. Unloading all of her bullets entire thing into the first thing she found, she threw it after it was empty. Using her shoes to shread the neck of her next victim as she backflipped out of all the bullets that came rushing towards her, she ripped the clunky things from her feet as she threw them to the next goon.

The blood was pouring out of his neck as the points imbedded into his throat and eyes.

What a waste of a perfectly new pair of shoes.

Oh well, what was next?

Harley's mind suddenly began to clear of everything that wasn't associated with killing. The red and blue that formed over her eyes made everything foggy. The only thing that filled her ears were the shrieks and cries of each of her victims as they fell to the ground.

Harley didn't hold back her laughter as she continued with her work. Such beautifully horrible cries.

She wanted blood, she needed death.

Her body serged with anticipation.

Gunfire went off in every direction as she began taking down Joker's goons one by one. Dodging each one with ease, she saw all the cowering people in the corner begin to run in every which way. She didn't let them get in her way, taking down whoever came into her line of sight. Flipping and cartwheeling her way around the room, she pulled the men down to the ground. When their skulls didn't crack open on the marble floors, she made sure to either rip their throats appart with her switch blade, or snap their necks between her fishnet-lined thighs.

As soon as she was done with the one, she moved onto the next. It was a matter of minutes as one body fell after another, and the screams and shouting increased.

One of the goons became cornered by her, her babies already knawing at him as she stalked towards him with her bat in hand. However just as soon as she raised it above her head, she felt it shot out of her hands.

She snapped her gaze towards the origin of the bullet. It came from the man in purple himself, kneeling down on the very counter she had just left. Eyes wild and blazing, she lunged for the first gun she could find before she cocked it in his direction.

"Don't mess with me, Mistah Jay," she cackled at him, voice and face unrestrained. She did not even care that her "Harlequin" had been unleashed upon him.

She never showed this to anyone, always kept her cool.

But things had just gone too far this time!

No one kicked her babies!

"I'm rather vexing when I'm angry!" she shouted at him.

In the next second, she saw him move his hand and what was left of Joker's goons retreated towards the back door, hovering behind him. Harley looked around her, noticing that the only thing around her were all the corpses that she had taken the liberty of making.

Wait a minute—why was she alone?

"Monty!"

When there was no response, Harley wracked her eyes around the room to search for them. Well, they were … actually all still alive. At least she wasn't going to have to get more. But wait, why were they all on their knees … oh.

Joker's goons had restrained all of them, holding guns to their heads should they move.

In other words, the only thing Harley had left in her arena were her babies.

She looked over to where they had been devouring the last goon, but they were nowhere to be seen.

Ears picking up their restrained whimpers, she finally found them. They were off to the side with more of Joker's goons, only their muzzles and leashes were back on.

 _When the hell did that happen?!_

Although Punch and Judy struggled mercilessly, Joker clapped his hands and his goons raised guns to their heads.

She glared at Joker, he glared back at her. "Tell them to back down," he demanded of her, closing in on her figure. At his proximity, she could feel the aura seeping into her skin. "Now."

Harley looked from her babies to her goons. They _were_ all hard to replace and/or train. The color seeped out of her eyes and she felt herself calm. Harlequin was gone for now, but she'd be back. Harley snapped her fingers, and the pair of hyenas stopped snarling, sitting down obediently.

Joker smiled, turning back to her. "Now if only humans were so complying," he drawled as he came up closer to her.

He completely disregarded the weapon in her hand as he grabbed ahold of her wrist once again. The gun fell from her grasp at how hard he gripped her, and Harley raised her hand to slap him again. This time, after she drew her hand back from his face, he was smiling.

"Come on, baby," he egged her breathily, pulling her closer to him. "Do it again! Do it again!"

Harley pulled her hand back in a pause as she froze. A chill from her neck made her freeze.

He was … liking this?

 _What the hell?!_

Every single instinct in Harley's body told her that she needed to get away that instant. She didn't know why, or try to reason as to why her body told her this, but she knew her own mind enough. When it reacted this violently, there was something wrong.

She needed to get away—now!

So that was the very next thing she tried to do; pull away. Using all the strength that remained in her body, she fueled her legs as she started running from his grasp. However, before she could take the second step, pain radiated from her shoulder as her body jerked in the opposite direction. She let out a hoarse cry of pain as she felt her body accellerate backwards … directly into his waiting embrace.

"Let go of me, clown!" she shouted, attempting to step on his feet.

As soon as her body came in contact with his, she felt the hardness of the rippling muscles of his chest and shoulders overcoming her, using his mere size to restrain her tinier form. Strong, unmoveable arms snaked around her front to tear into her upper arms, both hugging her and halting her as she squirmed and protested.

She wasn't going to go quietly.

"Oh, come on kitten," he breathed in her ear. "Be gentle with Daddy—he only wants to play."

The two of them danced in their embrace horribly, as Harley did her best to use her own strength against him to push him onto his back. He was unmovable, but that did not mean he she ceased her efforts. She pushed and pulled and jerked to both sides, numerous curses and screams escaping from her mouth as she was met with each of her efforts with an even stronger defense from him.

They pushed off walls and over furniture, crashes and banging echoing the large lobby. Glass shattered as they broke through a good number of walls.

Using his own strength and height to his advantage, Harley finally felt the air forced out of her lungs as she was pushed head first forward. She felt her jaw crack as he pushed her head down into one of the hard wooden desks, pulling her arm behind her in a painful contorted way.

Harley carefully analyzed where they were, despite not being able to move her head. Once she could see again, she saw where she was. Somehow, though she didn't know how, Joker had managed to drag her from the main room to one of the many offices. Well, they had broken through a good number of walls.

Despite only glass separating the spaces, it was fogged glass.

They were alone.

 _Damnit!_

He had probably wanted her to himself as he finished "playing" with her.

Cheek firmly against the wood, she felt the hot trickling of his breath against her neck and ear. His entire form was pressing on top of her own, and he used his bigger form to restrain her. But Harley didn't stop squirming or attempting to elbow him in the gut. There was no way she was going to let him kill her. Not now, not when she had come so far.

"Sh," he whispered softly in her ear, grip tightening around her waist and shoulders. "Sh, sh, sh, precious." She could feel his lips grazing her skin, making a shiver run down her spine. Something twisted in her core, but this time, it was in a lower region than her gut. Part of her wanted to question it, but she was too focused on his next words. "This will only hurt a little."

He then did something that made her freeze.

Twisting his grasp around on her arm, he used his free hand to delicately trace up the contours of her waistline, his cool fingers creating goosebumps on her skin where they trailed. He did it so quickly that Harley hadn't the time to even think about it before she could react. His powerful grip slid almost too delicately underneath her bra to raise the fabric up and reveal the mass of skin behind it. He took a hold of her bare breast and squeezed it sensually between his fingers.

Harley's breath caught in her throat.

 _Oh … no._

This was not good.

 _Not good at all._

Every single fiber in her being tensed up completely when her brain figured out what he was doing.

He was … what!? Harley's mind couldn't even fathom the words.

Harley was almost certain that she had stopped breathing as she realized her pulse was pounding in her head. Heat radiated out of each one of those cold fingers, leaving behind a trail of fire over her skin. Massaging both painfully and pleasingly, his fingers finally found his prize; the sensitive bud on the end.

Once he held it between two fingers, Harley felt a jolt run throughout her body, and she most obviously river-bated against the man holding her down.

What was happening?

This was not the plan—this was not supposed to happen!

The Joker was not supposed to be this way!

And she most definitely was not supposed to be liking it either. She didn't like this, she hated it! Then … why didn't her body know that?

A heat pooled in her core, the flamed being encouraged by the steady panting on her skin and into ear. He pinched the nipple in his hands as he smiled, only releasing it as soon as it was taught and erect without his assistance.

Harley felt herself struggling to breathe. She attempted to force air out of her throat, but nothing came out. Her entire body was so shocked at the attentions, that it didn't know how to react. The pleasure erupting from her core slowly moved to her other extremities. She felt her most sensitive region clenching … anticipation?

She was enjoying this?!

How was this even possible?!

Before she had another rational thought, she felt her body be lifted up from the wood, only to be thrown down once more onto her back this time. Her head hit the surface with a thud, pain radiating from her skull as her vision darkened for a split second.

"See?" she heard being growled into her ear. The velvety voice only made her body shake; with fear or pleasure, she didn't know. "Just wanna play …"

Harley's eyes widened as she felt his hands tightening around her hips, forcing her legs to part and his own torso between them. The hardness of his chest pressed down on her own, the mere weight of his body completely on her own enough to disable her. His hands came up to encircle her throat tightly.

It was then that she remembered something she shouldn't have forgotten. At any moment he wished, he could kill her within seconds.

She could barely see, her mind was so foggy from the shock. What was happening? Why was this happening? Was the Joker really going to have his way with her before he killed her? Was she really just going to let him do it? Was there anything she _could_ do?

"You know," she heard him rasp into her ear, his face buried in her shoulder. "You killed … a lot of my men."

Her lips parted, Harley mustered up all the energy she could to push the air from her lungs. "It's part of my charm," she sneered at him, staring straight up at the ceiling.

"Yes it is," he soothed, his thumb gently trailing the contours of her face. She heard him chuckling, the sound creating a hollow feeling inside her. "And you are … very charming."

Harley didn't know if that was his idea of a compliment, but somehow she did not feel very happy about it.

As he held her face steady, she saw it happening before she could move to stop it.

His painted red lips descended upon hers almost as harshly as his slap had upon her face. He was not gentle, not patient. He ripped into her mouth, hungrily devouring her lips. Pulling, nipping and teasing, she felt him mercilessly lay into her all the darkness he could muster. Biting her lips and cheeks, she became wildy aware of his hot moist tongue search almost every crevice of her mouth. He was setting her skin ablaze, every part of her was radiating with fire. She couldn't restrain her toes from curling up from how tightly she had been wound.

He pulled away almost as harshly and urgently as he had descended.

Once his face was farther away, she saw his head hovering above her own. Eyes still blurry, she could do nothing but lay there was a horribly overwhelmed deflated expression. He had taken a lot out of her. This was one aspect of a villain that she had never dreamed she'd have to deal with.

What was happening to her?

She lay unmoving for several moments. Harley almost thought she heard voices, but couldn't tell if they were coming from inside or outside of her head. Then, she felt his breath in her ear again.

"You know, dollface, there seems to be a change of plans. I _was_ just gonna play with you—but it seems I've changed my mind."

Harley blinked.

What?

 _What did that mean?_

Was he going to let her go?

He disappeared from her line of vision for a split second before she felt herself being hoisted up. Once she was completely flipped around, world no longer upside down, she realized that not only was she looking at the back of the Joker's pinstriped coat, but her body had been draped over his shoulder.

He settled her nicely on his shoulder before heading for the door.

As he walked through the masses of bodies laying around the room, Harley finally blinked out of it and pushed herself up in an attempt to pick her head up, but his grip around her waist and legs was firm. "Hey, what the hell are you doing?!" she screamed.

"I am taking you home with me, sweetheart," he chuckled boldly, his infamous laughter riveting off the walls as he took command of his men again.

Eyes widening, Harley could only picture the sheer multitude of things that the clown would do to her once she was in his lair. Searching around the room, she found her men more or less cowering in the corner with her babies on their leashes. For a minute they looked like they were going to do something about her current state; she _was_ being abducted. No boss meant no salary.

However, Harley knew her boys were tremendously outnumbered.

"Monty, Shorty!" she screamed as Joker proceeded to exit the way he came in; the front door. Her eyes finally found the only two of her men she could remember at that moment. "Get the babies home! Wait for me there—!"

She didn't get to finish, being cut off as they left the building. Hopefully they would get the message and follow her orders. They were headed towards the numerous large black vehicles that were parked directly on the sidewalk in front of the building. Hearing sirens in the distance, Harley realized that the Joker's effort to leave the scene was motive for her capture.

But why couldn't he have just killed her and gotten it over with?

Instead of taking her over to one of the vans, where Joker's remaining men were hastily filling, she was taken over to the most ostentatiously purple Lamborghini she had ever seen. She was hastily forced into the trunk, her head hitting the bright interior as she did so. As she screamed and struggled in protest, she felt some kind of vapor spray into her face and suddenly an overwhelming sleepiness came over her.

Shit! No, no, no!

 _Don't fall asleep! Don't fall asleep!_

 _You'll never make it out alive if you do!_

But despite her struggling, Harley soon felt limbs go limp as the world darkened around her, vision slowly being masked over with black. She saw the lid of the trunk lowering as she caught a glimpse of the king of crime for the last time.

"Sleep well," he whispered to her smoothly.

Soon her limbs and eyelids grew too heavy to fight back any more, and Harley could do nothing but let the darkness consume her.

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(Author's Note: For all of you reading this for the first time, let me thank you for taking the time out of your lives to read my humble work. I really am quite flattered. Writing like this is merely a way I deal with stress, and it makes me feel so much better knowing that there are others out there who appreciate it.

I fell in love with this couple almost immediately, so I couldn't wait to run home from the theater to start this. I hope to update as soon as possible, however I do wish to maintain my standards, so updates are not always going to be on the same days each week.

I will give one note before you head on. I am using as many inspirations for this piece as possible; although it is set in the Suicide Squad world, you may find jabs from all different kinds of "Batman" media. Seeing as there are as many incarnations of Batman as there are people in the world, I thought it would just be so much more fun to put my own spin on things.

Once again, thank you all very much. I ask that you give me a review, because to writers, reviews are better than chocolate. If you just give me one word in it I will be happy, and even if you despise this piece, I would like to know; I welcome all creative criticism. Your comments keep me going and give me inspiration.)

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	2. Chapter 2

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Warnings:

There is a reason this story has the rating it does.

Graphic content ahead.

Proceed with caution.

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Pygmalion

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Chapter 2

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"Pain is real when you get other people to believe in it. If no one believes in it but you, your pain is madness or hysteria." – Naomi Wolf

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Back in her old life, when she had been Harleen Quinzel, she always remembered how much she was intrigued by extreme personalities.

There was really no time she could remember not being interested in the subject. Harleen had a normal existence, with an average family life and circumstances. There was absolutely no reason as to why she would be so interested in people who were extraordinary. There was really nothing all that significant about her life, nothing weird or out of the ordinary.

Well, except that … one thing.

Her … "skin condition" as people had called it.

Yes, she was pale. She was all white, a walking ghost among mortals. Her skin, her hair, even her eyes were all a startling bleached lack of color.

The response had not been … as understanding.

When she was very young, she distinctly remembered an entire group of people stopping to stair at her, the looks on their faces so hard to read. She was different. Their looks were cruel and hating, mixed with disgust and annoyance.

What … a … freak …

Those words whispered inside her head constantly. The presence inside her head continued to into her mind, relentless in its taunting. It grew and grew, until she realized it had been talking to her. It whispered things in her head.

Told her to do things.

 _What worthless rats. They aren't even people, nothing but vermin._

There was only one thing to do with vermin.

And so the next time those stupid cheeky animals set their sights on her, she was prepared.

It was the first time she ever made anyone "disappear".

And she loved it.

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"Curiosity is natural to the soul of man and interesting objects have a powerful influence on our affections." – Daniel Boone

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By the time that Harleen had become Dr. Quinzel, she had mastered the art of disguise. There was nothing a wig and theater paint could not hide. This mask had been the easiest one she had to don for all the people around her. The mask of having to pretend she didn't want to make all kinds of people disappear had been even harder to bear.

That was one of the reasons she liked crazy people better than sane ones.

They were crazy, but at least they were themselves around her. They were braver than any of the "sane" people she knew. In a way, she almost envied their courage.

Everyone else was simply wearing a mask. Harleen could see them. They were usually emotions; greed, lust, pride. Each and every one of them were pathetic cowards. Then again, she was the same so for a long time she did nothing.

That was before she came across the most fascinating case she'd ever seen.

A patient in Arkham Asylum that she had petitioned for months to be able analyze; one that was only identified as his alias, the Joker.

She read and reread his file. She went through every piece of research and studied every session interpretation. Everything about the man was fascinating. A murderer who did so without any other motive other than the satisfaction of the kill itself. Most criminals killed for business, a result of a bad deal or to keep someone quiet. It had always been to cover up their trail or gain them more money or power. But this man, this so-called clown, simply killed because it brought him the ultimate joy.

Death and chaos fed his very soul.

But there was only so much she could get without speaking to him herself. She needed direct contact, something in front of her so she could look with her own eyes.

It took a lot of persuasion and sometimes even begging, but she finally got it. She was assigned to be the Joker's doctor.

That was why on that fateful night, she sneaked in at night to simply catch a glimpse of her subject. She didn't want to be caught off guard; she knew he had the most intimidating of appearances.

It was that night that she found something she could not stand for.

Her boss, the very man that hired her and she trusted, was torturing the very patients he claimed he was trying to cure. He strapped them to the table and delighted in their screams as their consciousness, their very souls, were being completely fried from their brains forever. No, not her patients, not the people she'd been nurturing for months. She knew their dreams and ambitions, and it was all they had left in this horrible world that had taken everything else away from them.

She would not allow that.

In that instant, Harleen remembered seeing red and blue for the first time. Several cracked skulls and broken necks later, she had been attempting to liberate the patient from the electro-stock therapy table when it happened.

She should have made sure that last one had been dead.

After that, she felt the identity of Harleen slowly but painfully fry itself out of her brain. Her muffled screams were the only thing left of the good doctor as she endured the pain. It was sheer luck that she was able to break free.

The next thing she knew, she had been tearing out someone's throat with her own teeth.

Harleen was gone; she died on that table. The mask of Dr. Quinzel was gone forever.

Only Harley Quinn was left.

And she didn't care who lived or died anymore.

Rain dissolved all the paint and destroyed the wig, her actions destroying her clothes. After that, Harley did the first fun thing that came to mind; she simply opened every single cell in the entire asylum … just so she had an excuse to kill some more.

She had no idea that there had been a few people that actually escaped.

It had been the most liberating night of her life. One by one, they fell like the walking meat sacks they were. The guards were the best ones to play with; they were actually armed. The air had been filled with such exciting sounds; pop, boom, crash! They only fueled her laughter.

It had been such a fun rebirth.

It was short-lived however. All it took was one little taser, and she was out like a light.

And now she was working for that damned woman.

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"Beauty and seduction, I believe, is nature's tool for survival, because we will protect what we fall in love with." – Louie Schwartzberg

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"Awe—a present for me? You shouldn't have."

"I am being serious, Ms. Quinn; it is important that you keep this on you at all times."

Giggle.

"Is the big boss lady afraid I'm gonna get into trouble?"

"No, I _know_ you will get into trouble. That is why I cannot risk you being compromised—take this and use it if ever necessary."

"Will do—yes ma'am!"

Pause.

"Only use it in an emergency. You remember what the perimeters for those are, correct?"

"Let's see … if I'm captured alive, right?"

"Exactly. If you know you're going to die, don't even bother."

Laugh.

"Geese, lady, you're so thoughtful. It almost sounds like you care."

"Oh, I do care Ms. Quinn—but not about _your_ life."

"You were always the smooth talker …"

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"Seduction is often difficult to distinguish from rape. In seduction, the rapist often bothers to buy a bottle of wine." – Andrea Dworkin

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Harley awoke with a start.

Her head collided with a hard object, and she immediately noticed that she couldn't see. Well, her eyes were open. She reached up to check—yep, open! But she was also still laying down, and she couldn't help but notice how much of an enclosed space she was in when she attempted to stretch her legs out and they hit something.

As soon as she heard the continuous dull noise of an engine, she remembered where she was; in the back of a very, very expensive car.

Damn it!

How the hell did she ever get mixed up with that stupid clown!?

 _You provoked him, remember?_ The logical voice in her head mentioned.

Oh yeah, that was pretty much her fault.

And her head was so … foggy.

 _You really f**ked up this time, you idiot._ That was the one that could be a be a real bitch sometimes.

It was at that moment that she remembered one of her little "super-powers", that slight immunity to toxins. It seemed it was working—Harley had a feeling that whatever the clown doused her with, it was supposed to be a lot stronger. Even if it had worked its way out of her system slightly, she could still feel the effects. Her mind was still foggy with cobwebs. She just hoped that it wasn't going to make this more difficult for her.

She'd already been hit on the head one too many times that morning.

Reaching her hands out in front of her, Harley began to run them along the walls of the trunk she was currently occupying. There was always some kind of door release back here, usually. When she came up empty handed, she growled in frustration and then attempted to look around her.

 _Well, at least you have us to talk to_ , purred the coy one. _Maybe we can talk about all that business back with Mistah Jay, hm? Wouldn't he be great to play with … ? Some naughty games too._

Harley growled and shook her head. Damned voices! That was definitely the last thing she wanted to talk about.

"Could you all just shut up for five minutes!?" she hissed under her breath, but gasped when she realized how loud that had been. Thankfully, the car did not stop. When she continued, she whispered this time. "I am trying to escape."

She returned to her search, pretty confident that they wouldn't be back for a little while. They quieted down when she acknowledged their existences out loud. Now, was there anything in the stupid trunk she could use?

Sadly, besides herself (and the others in her head), the trunk was empty.

Who needed to use trunk space when there were all those black vans, anyway? Then again, Harley personally always liked having weapons on hand—weapons!

She immediately began searching her form. If and when that trunk opened again, she needed to be ready. Sadly, there wasn't much room in the booty shorts and bra for many things. The flimsy material of a dress didn't have any pockets either. But wait!

Ah ha!

She remembered why she never left the house without a harness around her chest, and it wasn't just to make sure the girls stayed in place. The wide elastic straps that criss-crossed over her chest and back were very good at keeping things concealed in the hidden pockets.

They usually had all kinds of goodies; lipstick, knives (like her switch blade that she had lost at the bank), nail files, some candy and oh! A phone!

As soon as the little plastic device was in her fingers, she was so relieved to see that the battery wasn't dead—she'd have to give a raise to the person in charge of her clothes.

The little light was able to illuminate the tiny space just enough for her to see … there was no trunk release. The door was lined with, um, wire bars? Then she noticed something that she probably should have noticed earlier. The space was not lined with fabric like most trunks; instead it was lined with a plastic coating. There was also a small hole in the floor towards the door.

Oh shit.

This was probably where he carried all his "playmates" – before and after he was done with them.

And the drain? For blood of course.

Harley instantly continued checking all her pockets for anything else. Nope, just the phone. Who the hell could she call? All of her men were idiots! And the people that did work for her that could figure out how to rescue her were very, very difficult to replace.

Glancing over her numbers, she realized that the amount of her "friends" was very bleak. She really had to attend the next villains' poker night. The list of her contacts was simply sad. Hell, she'd host the event next time.

It was then that Harley's eyes fell on the mysterious number at the bottom of the list. There was no name, only a series of frowny faces and knife emojis.

Well, this person _could_ help, but … did Harley really want it?

The car jerked as it slammed on the brakes and Harley heard the engine cut. She didn't have time to debate. Normally she would have just called, but Harley didn't think it was wise to start talking—it was better to play unconscious for as long as possible.

So she quickly typed in the text message, _KIDNAPPED. NEED LOCATION_.

She didn't bother with her typical emojis as she turned the phone onto silent and then returned it to the secret pocket. The tiny thing was hopefully small enough to go unnoticed. Then, putting on her best acting skills, she let her body go limp and closed her eyes.

It was relatively quiet outside, but Harley could hear movement and the echoing of voices that drew closer.

Someone was knocking on the door from the outside, but she didn't respond. After a pause, the door opened and she could feel fresh air on her skin.

Harley would have held her breath, but she needed to look unconscious. Thankfully, her drowsiness was helping create that effect.

What was happening, anyway?

After a moment, there was finally something, "So I take it Mr. Reed won't be joining us?"

That was not the Joker.

A harsh laugh radiated next to the first voice. It chilled her to the bone. "Reedy isn't nearly as nice to look at."

 _That_ was the Joker. Just the sound of his voice made her hair stand on end.

Who the hell was Reed?

 _Wait, did he just call you … pretty?_

" _She_ killed half our boys?" the other person asked, as monotonous and professionally as possible. From his tone, it was obvious that he was either not afraid of the clown or he was of such a high position that he could question him. "Alone?"

"All by her itty-bitty self," the crime boss breathed. She could hear the smile on his lips. "Snapped some of their necks with those … luscious thighs of hers."

It was the another complement, but Harley didn't like it. His words were always laced with something behind it, and she did not like his tone.

 _What if he wants your thighs around_ _ **his**_ _neck?_

Harley suppressed a tingle, the image of hot breath on her thighs reaching her brain. Suddenly, Harley noticed that a certain area of her anatomy—one that lay between her thighs—had suddenly started growing warm and … moist. It clenched with anticipation.

Uh-oh.

She did everything possible to prevent herself from reacting to the memories that rushed back to her. Had she been able to move, she would have squirmed some more to get rid of the irritation between her What had happened … what he did … where he touched her. It made her want to squirm even more.

Why hadn't she hated it?

And why couldn't she prevent that oh so wonderfully awful clenching in her gut?

 _Because it felt so … very nice, Harley dear. Such big strong shoulders … very skillful hands. He definitely knows how to play rough too. Maybe Mistah Jay will help you with some of all that pent up energy you got stored up?_

Harley didn't have time to mentally chastise that one.

"Chimney or forge?" she heard the other man ask.

"Oh, neither Johnny," replied the king of crime. "This is a … very special guest. Just my usual toys sent upstairs, and—oh! Cancel my appointments for the next day or two." She heard him breathing heavier, his voice getting closer.

When she felt hands on her skin, she stupidly twitched slightly. Cold fingers touched her cheek, the back of an index caressing the contour of her jaw. After she reacted, his hand retracted slightly, but she felt it hovering nearby. Harley immediately groaned lazily, the rest of her body squirming before she stopped right after the finger left her skin. It was a reflexive movement; even an unconscious person responded to touch.

Hopefully, they would buy it.

"Seems like she doesn't respond to the Flower like others," Joker remarked with a small bit of interest.

What on earth was "the Flower"?

"Next time I'll just have to dose her harder."

Oh—whatever he had sprayed her with to knock her out. She made a mental note.

This time when the Joker touched her, he took a hold of her torso and gently pulled her out of the trunk, picking her up in his arms. Instead of throwing her over his shoulder like last time, she felt him grip her under her knees and hold her around the waist firmly, adjusting her head so that it rested on his shoulder.

With her ear next to his neck, Harley could hear the beating of his heart. It unnerved her for a moment; she never thought of such a man possessing one. Maybe she subconsciously thought he wasn't human. Instead, it was there for her to hear.

And it was was not steady, instead it was rapid and quick.

She wondered if he was worked up, or that was his resting heartbeat.

 _Oooh! Such broad shoulders …_

The gang kingpin began walking, his movements steady, poised even. Harley heard other footsteps walking next to him. For the next few minutes, there was absolutely no speaking at all. The Joker just continued to walk, taking several turns and then accending a few steps before another few turns.

Harley attempted to remember their route, seeing as she'd need it for her escape later. She didn't know what Joker had planned, but "toys" did not sound good. Despite what the voices in her head were telling her, she doubted his plans were so … recreational. Her own toys were deadly, so _his_ were probably a lot less … cute.

Hers were always adorable, after all.

She heard the click of a door, and the lighting around her changed, growing darker. When Harley was finally put down, she noticed that whatever he had laid her on was incredibly soft and fluffy. Her head rolled to the side.

Were those pillows under her head?

"How soon do you want this footage looked at?" asked the other voice, "Johnny" or so he was called. Wherever they were, the henchman had followed.

"Analyze it," Joker said, his voice hovering near her. She felt him sit down next to her, his finger reaching for her chin this time. He tilted her head from side to side, almost as if looking her over properly. "This little minx refused to tell me her name. Do you recognize her at all?"

There was a pause. Harley heard the sound of recorded gunfire and screams. Deja vu hit her, then she realized that _she_ had made those screams. Whatever footage they were looking at, it was probably from earlier at the bank.

"Never seen her before," Johnny replied. "There aren't too many that can do all those flips. Do you think she works for someone we know?"

"No … this one is all on her lonesome." He finally released her and stood. There was some movement, and she realized he had taken a few steps away. "She was able weasel her tight little ass into the vault without sounding any alarms … she's no amateur."

From his tone, Harley could have sworn that he was thoroughly impressed by this information.

 _Aw … see, he likes you …_

"You want me to ask around?"

"Find out who she is," Joker instructed. "Everything that's out there—I need a name."

"Her men didn't talk?"

The clown chuckled at this. "I don't know what she has those idiots on, but the second we asked anything, they instantly keeled over," he responded.

"Dead?"

"Nope, just … braindead. We woke them, and they didn't remember a thing."

Harley smirked internally. That little failsafe in all her men had been placed in if anyone captured them and asked about her personally. Her supposedly useless—according to a few narrow-minded individuals who were currently resting in pieces—hypnotism classes had finally started to pay off.

"Did you need anything else before I left?"

"Hm …" She could hear him closer again. "She look like a Champagne or Cognac kind of gal?"

What?

Did he actually think that she would willingly drink anything he gave her?

"Rum," Johnny countered.

 _Oh yay! We love rum!_

"Oh yes, of course—send some of that up too. And a few dozen roses—but make sure half of them are blue."

There was no response, but she heard footsteps. Then the slam of the door.

 _Red and blue roses … those sound pretty._

After a few seconds, Harley began to wonder if she was alone. But Harley's suspicions were denied when could still hear the faint panting of the clown of crime, even if it was a little far off. But then, after a few seconds, there was more movement. Another opening and closing of a door, followed by silence.

Harley contoured as if to look like she was stretching, then she brought her hand up to cover her face, trying to hide the fact that she was trying to open her eyes. If there was someone still there, she still wanted to look like she was asleep.

When she finally cracked her eye open, she saw a lot of things. People were not among them.

First of all, she saw herself.

Hanging above her only by a few feet was a mirror large enough to reflect her entire body and plenty of the space around her. And when she saw what was around her, she was completely confused.

Sitting up straight, Harley looked around her with wonder.

 _What the hell?_

She was sitting in the middle of a very large, very ornate bed. The mattress was larger than king-sized, and it was accented in its size by the four posts that held translucent curtains around its perimeter. Dressed with purple silk and satin, it had more than enough pillows for several people.

Outside of the bed, the large room was modernly decorated. There were straight, clean lines and few variations. The room itself was not lavishly decorated; a pair of side tables, a couch, a dresser that didn't look like it could hold a lot, and a few chairs.

It was nicely done, but it was sterile. There was no art, no accent pieces. The only thing that made it stand out from the ordinary was the color; the deep purple that matched the bed covers and curtains. The rest of the furniture was black with gold accents. The room was big, with a tall ceiling, but the color made it seem tiny. There were absolutely no windows, asside from the ceiling. The entire ceiling itself was a giant window, the vaulted thing taking the shape of a dome. However, there was no light coming in from above.

Wasn't it still day time?

The room itself wasn't exactly a square. The space that held the bed was almost a small, round shaped "nook" that was annexed from the rest of the space, probably for privacy.

This was … a bedroom.

A bedroom? Really? Wait a minute, why would he take her up to his own bedroom to kill her?

 _Because he doesn't want to kill you, stupid—at least not yet anyway. Remember? He said he wanted to play?_

Realization dawned on Harley.

Shit.

 _You know, that took a little bit too long for you to figure out, sweetie. He ordered Champagne and roses you dunce!_

Shit … shit-shit-shit-shit-shit-Shit! SHIT! **SHIT!**

There was absolutely _no_ room, in _any_ of her plans, that involved that kind of play with the clown!

As soon as she figured out, panic set in, and Harley pushed asside all the cobwebs in her head, ignoring her own weariness as she attempted to scramble up off the bed.

However, her efforts were immediately ceased by something pulling on her arm.

She followed the clanking metal sound; her hand had been handcuffed to the metal bed frame.

That clown thought of everything—everything damn it!

When the hell did that happen? And why wasn't one of those stupid voices paying attention?

 _Sorry, I thought he was just being kinky …_

A brief image flashed across her mind. It was of herself strapped to the bed in chains, wearing absolutely nothing as the clown slowly closed in on her.

 _I wonder what he'll think of as soon as he gets back …_

No, No, NO!

Harley deeply considered bashing her head against the wall right there, even if it would only silence the voices in her head for a few minutes. However, she settle for shaking her head furiously before she began to inspect the cuff around her hand.

Maybe she could pick it.

Sadly, all her hair pins had fallen out earlier. She squirmed over to the side table, using her free hand to root through the drawer. Sadly, there were only bullets inside. Completely useless! Where was a loaded gun when it was needed? And where the hell were all the knives?

Shimmying over to the other table, the only other thing within reach, she found nothing but a tablet inside.

She didn't know what she attempted to do with it, but she pulled it out and attempted to use it. However, all she found was a screen displayed a picture of a dead body; probably Mistah Jay's own handiwork. But it was password protected, so no luck there.

She put it back and turned back to the cuff itself, flexing her hand around. She had always been flexible, maybe she could squeeze out of it.

It only took a few tugs and turns, and eventually she was free.

Finally!

Scrambling to her feet, she immediately went to the first door she found.

But as she touched the handle, she paused when she heard a noise. It was faint and constant, the streaming of water raining down. She placed her ear to the door, hearing it more intensely. A shower was running.

And … she could only guess one person who could be in it.

This was obviously the bathroom. Harley couldn't think of anything else that would be attached to a bedroom—that had running water at least.

Without any other options, Harley tried to think of what she should do next. She needed to get out, she needed to get away. There was no way she could stay, not with him. She was afraid of what she would do with him, of what he would make her do.

She … might even like it.

 _What are you saying, you'll love it! Harley and Mistah Jay sittin' in a tree …_

Snapping herself, out of it, she went on to the next option. This one was a long narrow hallway, just as tall and windowless as where she'd just been before.

Scampering down the plush carpeting, she found an open space that was laid out in several layers, almost like there were a few large steps leading up to where she stood. There was a clear path down the center of all the pieces of furniture enough for several dozen people to lounge. This space was lit, with light was streaming in through the glass ceiling. It appeared even brighter even if everything was colored to match the previous space.

Where the hell was she?

Wait, was this whole thing the bedroom?

 _Wow, he is loaded!_

At the very bottom of the stairs, she saw a pair of large doors.

That was the exit!

Harley scurried to the door, and was ecstatic when she realized it opened.

However, that ecstacy was cut severly short when she saw what was on the other side of the door.

A total of about maybe … two dozen goons standing in the hallway.

All of these goons were nicely dressed and maskless, almost resembling very scarred and hideous secret service members. As soon as she entered the room, they all trained their guns onto her.

 _Wow, you ain't dodging those, honey._

Harley cracked a nervous smile.

"You all wouldn't shoot little ol' helpless me, would ya?" she asked in the most innocent voice she could muster.

Harley shrieked as she slipped back through the doors the second she started hearing gunfire, closing and locking them behind her. Unfortunately, they kept shooting at her through the thick wood. It would hold, but not that much.

Apparently they didn't really care they were distroying their boss's door.

As Harley ran away from it back up the steps, intentionally keeping head down. When the door came crashing open anyway—one of the bigger ones assisted with that—Harley yelped and ran back down the narrow hallway again, seeing as there was really nowhere else to go.

 _What the hell did Mistah Jay tell them?_

It only occurred to her that this probably wasn't the smartest thing to do. All she had now was the bed and a few bullets.

With really not much other options, Harley did the only thing she could think of—she jumped up on top of the canopy over the bed, which was surprisingly sturdy (it was holding up a mirror, though), and then onto the large ceiling fixture above it.

Well, they couldn't shoot her if they couldn't find her.

Thankfully, she only had enough time to lay down against the fixture to hide her shape before they came in.

There was murmuring, but no gunshots.

"What the hell are all of you doing?" came a familiar voice. Wasn't that "Johnny" or something?

"The broad tried escaping," was a grunt of a reply. "Orders were to kill if she tried."

Oh, that explained a lot.

 _So possessive …_

There was a pause. "Where is she?"

"She ran back in here and disappeared."

Harley held her breath. Maybe they would just go away if she stayed quiet.

"All of you but you two leave," Johnny commanded. There was shuffling of feet. "And you two, explain exactly what happened."

"She came out the door, so we started shooting. She ran back this way, and when we came in this is how we found it. We were following orders."

"And you're sure she came in here?"

"Where else would she go?"

"You know …" draweled the return of an all too familiar purr. "You guys need to be a little more open minded."

Oh crap.

 _He_ was back.

Although the Joker taunted them, he then changed the subject, "What did you find so quick?"

She heard movement. "This was the only thing we could find on her," Johnny responded. "It's real short, but it's definitely her."

After a few seconds, Harley heard recorded gunshots again. They were different from the earlier recording. They were laced with a lot more screams and thumps.

Wait a minute … where had she heard that before.

That was when she heard the voice.

"Attention Arkham Patients," she heard her own voice echoing, followed by the hollowness of her own laughter. "Harley Quinn here."

Oh no.

Not good.

WHERE THE HELL DID THEY GET THAT?!

" … know that you will be exterminated on the spot. Thank you for your cooperation."

There was an eerie pause, and she heard pacing.

Low guttural breathing began to fill the space again. From the tone, Harley didn't have to guess who that was.

"Harley Quinn, Harley Quinn, Harley … Quinn," whispered the clown. He could barely contain his laughter. "Oh, little Harlequin, that's almost too perfect."

"Harlequin? You mean like that Harlequinade place?" muttered one of the goons.

There was a pause amongst the group below, but not for Harley.

Oh crap! Her club!

One of them had heard of it?!

 _Who invited a rival goon? We really have to screen all those invites!_

The distinct pause intensified for a few seconds, and she realized the other three were probably staring at him in confusion. "You never heard of that new club over in the high rent district?" the goon continued, sounding embarrassed.

"Why don't you enlighten us, Tommy?" the Joker prompted, sounding a little annoyed but intrigued.

"It's one of those really fancy invite only places … um, you know Burley-something."

"Burlesque?" asked the other goon.

"Yeah, that's the one. All dance, no real tits. Everyone there is dressed up like the circus there. You gotta wear a mask to go inside, and it's real popular with all the rich folks. Some of the dancers at our place were talking about it."

That was right, Joker did have several strip joints. Harley only had the one place so far, and she had done a pretty good job of keeping it under wraps from a majority of the population.

Maybe … she should have been a little nicer to the dancers she didn't hire.

"Fascinating," the Joker drawled. There was a pause, before some more movement. "You know Harley dearest, won't you come down from that light and join the conversation?"

Harley flinched. Damn, he saw her.

 _Well, cat's out of the bag._

Placing on the sweetest smile she could muster, Harley teasingly sat up and turned to he small group of men standing beneath her.

"But Puddin'," she protested, making sure to extend her head out further. "And ruin all your fun?"

The green-haired clown was the only one not surprised to see her in her hiding place. The two goons jumped when she moved, and Johnny looked as shocked as he could—an eyebrow twitched upward. She observed that had been the first time she'd seen the head henchman. Hm, the beard suited him.

The Joker stood with his arms crossed, smiling at her maniacally. "But the conversation is about you, sweetheart," he mocked.

The man beneath her was freshly showered and changed. There was still a dampness to his skin, and there were spots on his red silk shirt that clung to his frame from the moisture. The thing was opened almost all the way down the front, black slacks the only other thing on his form. Oddly enough he was barefoot, but for some strange reason this wasn't too weird for him.

She couldn't help but notice how much the contours of his body were highlighted by how the fabric clung to his skin.

 _Mm-mm, wouldn't those ripped muscles be so nice …_

Kicking her feet up behind her, Harley looked off to the side, appearing like she was distracted by her own nails. "I don't wanna," she whined with a pout. "Your friends weren't very nice to me …"

"If you don't come down, I'm going to have to make you come down," he threatened in almost a song.

She frowned and turned to him, staying in character. "Oh yeah, how?"

The Joker only smiled. Extending his hand to one of the goons, they swiftly handed him a gun. When he pointed it towards her, Harley ducked back behind the light with a yelp. Thankfully, when the gun went off it completely missed her.

Unfortunately, it made its original target; the one chain that had been holding the light up.

With a lurch, Harley felt the one side fall down, and she immediately clung to the other. She glared down at him, snapping out of the cute. "What the hell?!"

"There's the real Harley! You only got one more chance before it comes down completely, darling."

She growled, face wrinkling at him. No more cutesy.

Swallowing her pride, she jumped back over to the canopy, before she slowly flipped down onto the floor.

He was waiting for her, unarmed, and he took no pause as he came up right in front of her to wrap his hands around her waist. Hoisting her up against him, she realized how tightly she was pressed up against him. At first she tried squirming, but then he whispered something in her ear.

"Be nice, doctor," he said softly enough so only she could hear him.

She felt her eyes widening, and her entire body stiffened.

Wait a minute, how did he … ?

"That footage you heard us watching was impressive—I'd know Arkham anywhere."

If Harley thought she was in trouble before, she was in serious trouble now. How the hell did he know she was a doctor at Arkham? All of her records at that place had been completely erased.

But now he was … blackmailing her.

Into playing nice? … was that it?

A mischievous smile crept up on her face. There was a reason he hadn't sent the henchmen away yet; he needed an audience.

This was something she was good at.

With a coo and a giggle, Harley launched her arms around his shoulders and kissed him boldly. He didn't even pause with a response. It was deep and heated, much softer than the last one in the bank. Harley was tempted to suppress the shiver that overcame her, but she used the movement to her advantage as she pulled away.

 _So nice …_

"Hello there," she giggled, flicking a finger over his nose.

The Joker looked over to the henchmen. "Making friends out of rivals is so much fun," he commented. Only Johnny remained unfazed. "Isn't that so, Harley?"

She didn't respond, only stared humming to herself as she began tracing the word "damaged" that was tattooed across his forehead, seemingly completely unaware of anyone or anything else. She vaguely wondered if it was annoying him; she was trying to annoy him. She was also trying to avoid looking him in the eye, since that was dangerous territory.

"Frosty," the clown addressed Johnny. Harley vaguely wondered if that was his surname, or if at least "Frost" was. She thought as much, it was a name that suited him. "If you and the boys could excuse us, we have some negotiations to talk over …"

Frost nodded curtly and quickly excusing himself, the other two shuffling out of the room after him—looking relieved that they got away with their lives. As soon as Harley could hear that they were a good distance away, she finally turned to look at him in the eye.

He had very distinct eyes.

She'd hated kissing him in front of his men. The only reason he had brought her to his room was for one soul reason; gender. Men were on his own level, he could show to his men what would happen to them if they crossed him. Pain and torture, plain and simple.

But since Harley was a she … that was an entirely different animal.

The Joker was trying to show his dominance over her; he couldn't keep good control of his men if he couldn't handle a single _woman._

Typical alpha male move; show he could make any woman succumb to him.

"How do you know I was a doctor, clown?" she demanded, anger overcoming her fear of him.

He simply chuckled as he ducked his mouth into her neck. "I didn't," he hissed into her ear, gently nibbling her skin. "You just told me."

She felt her teeth clenching. Damn him.

Okay, she walked into that one.

 _Like a brick wall!_

Harley moved on. "You gonna let go of me now?"

"Hm …" His hands trailed around her waist, and he refused to move his mouth from her neck. "I think not."

"What? Why the hell not?" she asked as she began to squirm again.

His goons were gone, weren't they?

"You know, all that movement is just exciting me more, sweet cheeks," he mumbled, and she felt his hands trail down to cup her rear-end in his hands.

The grip was painfully sweet, and Harley froze as she held back a moan. Her insides clenched.

Oh no …

 _Oh yes …_

"Stopping so soon?" he teased.

She was fuming, and not in the good way. "I am not your toy!" she exclaimed, smacking his shoulders, the only thing she could reach. "If you're gonna kill me, kill me."

The clown stopped moving. And then, a low deep laugh she'd never heard before sent electricity throughout her limbs. He brought a hand up to jerk her head towards his, to look her in the eye.

The look on his face made her stomach turn. "Who said anything about killing you?"

Well, there went that theory.

 _Told you!_

Harley suppressed the urge to cringe. Up until that point, she was still clinging to the hope that he still just wanted her dead, seeing as there were only two reasons he'd bring her there.

He either wanted to kill her or …

She felt her gut spasm.

 _He wants to f**k your brains out, you idiot!_

… oh yeah, that other thing.

Harley couldn't hide the shock in her eyes.

She was afraid; she knew what he had planned. It wasn't that she was afraid that she would hate it, she was afraid that she would _like_ it—a lot. And that notion was scarier than the clown king himself.

It was then she realized how close her hips were to his, and she absently felt a warm hardness pressing up against her.

He was … serious. He was f**king serious!

It wasn't a question.

Harley didn't exactly know how she achieved it, but as soon as she tasted blood she managed to break free of his grip momentarily and scurry away from him. She kept him in sight the whole time, and by the time she was conscious of her movements again, she found herself crouched on top of the bed.

The man in front of her only had gleaming eyes as he wiped the blood away from his collar. "Oh Harley dear, you know just the way I like it …"

As soon as he launched for her, Harley backed up again, somersaulting backwards onto the floor and to her feet. She bolted up around the bed, but he was quicker—he immediately blocked her. Harley jolted back to the bed to run across it, but he blocked her there. The more she darted back and forth away from his grip, she could ear his laughter echoing in her head.

The entire time, she kept her eyes locked with his own, never daring to look away. Looking away meant certain defeat.

He met her gaze head on, and Harley could see the determination in his eyes.

She was not leaving that room unscathed.

The voices in her head chorused this time, _This is going to be so much fun!_

Damn them. What did they know anyway?

Their little game of tag was short-lived, as two more times of running around the bed, and Harley ran up and stood on the bed, holding up her hand.

"Now you stay right there, Mistah Jay!" she warned, feeling her accent cracking horribly. "I am not that kind of girl!"

He hadn't stopped when she did, in fact he jumped up onto the bed after her, only he was crouched playfully. "Oh, Harley Quinn … I know exactly what kind of girl you are …"

Harley let out a yelp; a tug of her ankle and was completely swept off her feet, literally. He was pulling her closer to him before she reacted out of instinct. The kick didn't even faze him, nor did it wipe that irritating smile from his face. Despite her thrashing, he somehow managed to pin her beneath him again.

She froze when she realized where she was.

The clown had pinned both of her hands above her head, his own pressing down on her relentlessly. Her legs had somehow been pushed back until she saw how her own knees were pinned to her shoulders.

Oh no.

She was completely exposed!

His own figure was firmly pressed against hers. Hips against hips, chest against chest, and mouth hovering only a breath's width away. Every synapse in her brain was uncontrollably wracked with pleasure. The sheer amount of heat pressed up against her was so hard and …

Stop it!

She had to refrain from instinctively grinding her hips into that heat.

Sadly, he only did it for her.

Harley couldn't stop the moan from escaping her mouth.

"No more foreplay," he muttered into her mouth.

 _Why are you still resisting, you stupid little idiot?!_

That was it.

She was done.

She could no longer resist.

Fighting was literally killing her.

There was no way she could fight anymore.

When he kissed her this time, she couldn't help herself; she met him head-on. As his lips crashed into her own, she didn't hold back the way her body trembled or the groans that escaped her mouth. She clung to his form, wrapping her arms around his neck greedily and burying her hands in his still-damp hair.

It felt so good. It felt so good …

He was merciless, ripping into her mouth as she felt his fingers run up and down her body. He never pulled away once as she felt his hands ascend up her dress, caressing the skin around her stomach and hips. Her body convulsed like she'd been electrocuted by his fingertips, a moan coming out with every stroke.

He broke away only once, fingers nimbly unclasping the ring between her breasts that held her harness in place. Once it fell free, he didn't hesitate to completely shred her dress as he ripped it off her form. Instead of being horrified, Harley found herself gasping in anticipation.

Yes, yes, yes …

Her own hands were not idle, as her nails slipping under his shirt to dig into the hard flesh of his back. She heard him growl into her neck as he took a swift bite out of her neck. There was blood, but she shook as the pain overcame her.

How did he know?

How did he know she would like that?

He pulled away to rip the shirt from his own body before launching himself on her lips again, purring into her mouth. His tongue caressed her own, and all Harley could think of was how she could get more of it.

She bit down, hard.

He pulled back, and for a second she saw anger flash across his eyes. It was only her fits of laughter and licking of her own lips that turned it around completely. "You taste good," she whispered.

With another jerk, a snap completely broke her breasts free from their restraints. Before they were completely free, she could feel how hard her nipples had become just from being exposed. As soon as his mouth completely covered the one, she bucked her hips forward and cried out without abandon. The other one was not left unattended, as while he bit down hard into the hard nub he mercilessly twisted the other with his fingers.

The heat inside her started to hurt, pooling in her core. Her muscles clenched and flexed, chasing that wonderful heat that only a few layers of cloth was separating from her goal.

Harley wanted this, she needed this. There was no denying it anymore.

All the voices in her head were deadly silent.

They had absolutely nothing to say …

Her hands clawed at the clasp at his pants, and she didn't even try not to rip them. As she heard the tearing of fabric, she felt the teeth on her skin break the flesh.

All she did was moan in ecstasy.

He pulled his lips away from her nipple and turned to her neck again. He whispered for her to be patient, although it was little more than a tease. Her legs came up to wrap around his waist possessively, grinding her hips into his.

She did not _want_ to be patient.

Harley was missing his warmth when he pulled away from her again, but it was only as he broke the clasp of her shorts, pulling them off with one swift movement. The fishnet barrier was shredded to allow access to the couple of strings that she wore for panties. They were almost instantly snapped off, and with her flesh free she realized how excited she really was.

The evidence of her desire was flowing all over the inside of her legs and the bed. The wet stickiness made her giddy, and the agitated nub between her legs only perked up the second it came in contact with air.

Which it did when in the next movement, her legs were pulled widely apart as lips descended upon … lips.

Her cries were even louder and intense as she bucked her hips upwards. That hot moist tongue lathered up the folds of her nether region, darting around as wildly as the man himself. He sucked harshly on the tiny cluster of nerves in just the right places, teeth biting down as his tongue slipped itself inside her tight core.

The explosion came in a matter of seconds. Harley felt her eyes go back in her head, her toes curling into the fabric beneath her as she rode out the waves of pleasure and pain that wracked her body. Her back arched into the air, all the muscles inside her body wracked with spasms in the best pain she could experience.

The high she achieved must have lasted hours, because as soon as she felt her body collapse, she felt an exhausting weight over all of her limbs. She couldn't move even if she wanted. She knew her mouth was hanging open dementedly, her tongue lolling from her lips. But oddly enough, she could care less.

"Harley, Harley, Harley," she heard growling into her ear. She could barely move, and could only respond as he moved her body for him. The Joker brought himself up to kiss her again. She tasted herself on his lips. "You taste good too…"

Indeed she did.

That was when she felt it, the fire hot heat that she had been longing for.

He had brought himself up to press his bare chest against her own, the contours of his body melding against her own. The tip of that heat lingered around her entrance, poking and prodding. The pressure of him against her only heightened Harley's anticipation, her body responding on its own to his attentions. Her hips bucked again.

But he was control of the situation.

He let her know that by pulled her face to his to stare her in the eye. "Tell me what you want, baby …" he pushed.

She only groaned. "… you," she muttered.

"Yes, yes, yes … but you need to say it …" He used his thumb to trace her parched lips. She sucked at it like a teat of water. "Tell me _who_ you want …"

His eyes captured hers, and she felt the words leave her before she could stop them. "Mistah … Jay," she breathed.

She felt his smile against her lips.

With one swift jerk, she felt that rock hard heat penetrate her completely. With a scream of pleasure mixed with pain, she bit back the moisture that fell from her eyes as she ripped into his back, knowing full well she was drawing blood.

That piece of her anatomy that proved her innocence was completely destroyed, but she couldn't contain how good the pain felt.

He did not pause after he pushed inside, taking no time to begin his assault. The red-hot poker that barraged her insides cruelly and unyielding. The muscles inside her expanded and contracted on their own, meeting each of his quick thrusts with another one of her own. Opening her legs to him more, she wanted to make sure that he could reach her deepest depth.

With each push, she felt herself being pushed down further into the mattress beneath her. It felt like if she was pushed any harder, she would be swallowed up by the fabric … and him. It was like falling deeper into water.

She was drowning … drowning in him.

Without even telling her body to do it, Harley suddenly pushed herself up and sat up straight, never breaking contact with him as she pushed him onto his back. She needed more, she needed it now. With her legs on either side of him, she kept eye contact as she began to bounce up and down on her own.

She couldn't see his face, as she was too focused on his eyes, but she knew he was smiling just as wildly as she was.

Because he met each one of her strikes with one of equal strength.

Her hips bucked even faster as she closed in on her edge, and she felt her eyes rolling to the back of her head even harsher than before as her neck rolled back with it. This time her entire body twitched and convulsed with so much energy that it caused her very body to fall over all on its own.

She fell forward onto his sweaty bare chest with a meager sigh that was more like a whimper, licking the sweat from his chest.

That was when she realized something she couldn't have forgotten.

He was still as hard as a rock inside her.

She couldn't even work up the energy to yelp as she felt him take control again, flipping her around onto her stomach. He parted for her only a fraction of a second as he pulled her hips up from the mattress to position himself behind her.

Her voice became harsh as she called out this time, pushing into her from behind like the wild animal that was contained inside of him. This position was even more unforgiving to her already pleasure-wracked body. There was nothing she could or wanted to do to stop him. All she could do was cling her hands around the metal of the headboard as she attempted to prevent herself from falling over completely.

His body bent over hers, wrapping around her center as he pulled tightly to his chest. She felt his hot breath on her neck and shoulders as he bit and sucked at her hairline. While his one hand tore at her breast, the other snaked its way down to her core … where it pinched and twisted.

Harley felt the walls around him begin to tighten up again. This one was different; this one was even more intense. She braced herself once more for the onslaught on her body, this one taking its time to build up in her body.

Teeth bit down hard into her shoulder as she felt him release inside of her.

She hardly noticed the breaking of skin as the molten lava shot straight into her core, his seed the living embodiment of the acid that had transformed his skin. As soon as that hot liquid penetrated the depths of her womb, Harley let out one final earth-shattering cry as she let the pleasure consume her.

The number of colors that overcame her vision were phenomenal. She didn't know her eyes could even pick up tones that were that bright or bold. As she felt every one of her limbs go completely numb, she didn't even try to fight whatever happened next.

Harley wasn't exactly sure what was going on, either. Her mind was still so foggy from the drugs and all the pleasure that had been thrown on her.

All she knew was that she felt like she was floating as she looked up at the form above her. Her vision was so blurry, that only the streak of green told her who it was. She could barely respond to his kiss as his tongue lingered with hers.

There was only one thing she could hear as unconsciousness took her again, "You know, my little Harlequin, I think I'm going to have to keep you …"

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Author's Note: Thank you for reading. Your reviews have been most kind. I would ask that with your next ones, please include the details of what you liked about this chapter. Thank you.

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	3. Chapter 3

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Warnings:

There is a reason this story has the rating it does.

Graphic content ahead.

Proceed with caution.

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Pygmalion

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Chapter 3

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"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all." ― Oscar Wilde

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She was very young the first time she visited the circus.

She was so young that she couldn't even recall if the very first memory of it was completely genuine. Part of her wondered if she had fabricated pieces of her memory. What she was sure about was that the memory was one of the most captivating things her young mind could grasp.

Bang, crash, boom!

There was so much noise, so much movement. There were people all around her, above and below her. No matter which way she turned, there was something new to entrance her, something amazing.

As soon as she passed through that tent, every single one of her senses were amplified to the extreme. The colors around her were so bright, so intensely beautiful. What entered her mouth stung her taste buds with such amazing fervor, lingering in her throat and mind. Her fingers found so many new textures, some fluffy and some pointy.

The people around her were dressed only like they would in stories. Bright make up, luxurious fabrics and ostentatious shapes. Every presence was different, but every feeling that they contained inside was on display for all to see.

They didn't despise how different they looked from everyone else.

No, they relished in it.

And in comparison to everyone else, they were the only ones that portrayed themselves for who they really were.

Everyone else was just a bad photo copy of each other.

It was only during those few brief moments in time, Harley had been allowed to come out and play. Every year after that, Harleen would beg o be allowed to go to the circus, and she would spend all night there. When her mother was feeling better, she would allow it. Her mother even took out a beautiful costume that she had made for Harley all by herself.

Everyone adored Harley when she dressed up in her little circus outfit, the bright diamond pattern rivaling all the colors on her cheeks. She was allowed to run, skip and jump as much as she wanted. She could remember how much she smiled, how much she laughed.

It had been so much fun to be free.

The adults at the circus adored her; the ones in the bright, bold outfits. They liked her so much better than those walking mannequins. They would smile whenever she came near. They hugged and kissed her cheeks, they gave her sweets and gifts. She was the cutest little girl they had seen, the living embodiment of everything that the circus meant. Her smile was enough to lift everyone's spirits.

Harley was not allowed to come out when the circus was not in town. Normal adults didn't like Harley, they liked Harleen.

Harleen acted like a normal little girl … Harleen _looked_ like a normal little girl.

So in those few times when she was allowed to let Harley out, she slowly became aware of how different the two entities were. As she got older, Harley became less and less acceptable even with the circus as a backdrop.

She had to be Harleen, the quiet little girl who did what she was told.

That was because Harleen would never _hurt_ anyone … let alone bash open someone's head with a rock.

Harleen would not use the blood all over her face and hands as finger paint.

Harleen would never have been able to overpower someone who was twice her height and three times her weight.

Harleen would not laugh as she watch the life drain from the eyes of the registered sex offender that decided upon his next victim.

But Harley … Harley would have done it gladly.

"Harley" was a phase, or so it was called later. It was something that she went through as a child, a result of naïve energy and innocent understanding. That was the explanation people would make for her.

Harley was wild, unnameable. She was the sweetest, most lovable thing when she was happy. But make her angry, and she was a monster.

There were only a few people who knew the complete truth.

The truth of what happened that night.

Only a few knew the truth of how the man … the _vermin_ … was a presence that no one wanted, and that wherever he went people suffered.

Only a handful of people came upon to witness the scene in the mere seconds after it happened.

Only a small group could see that the first one to acknowledge the truth about him was a child.

And that child was the only one brave enough to do anything about it.

She never asked for the clowns to cause a distraction while the acrobats whisked her away. She did not tell the fortune teller to hide her while the strong men washed away the scene. She did not expect the animal trainers to let the lions out of their cages while the bearded ladies cleaned her up. She never told the fire eaters to torch her dress with half of the tent to get rid of the evidence.

She had asked for none of it, but they gave it to her anyway.

Why? Because, they loved Harley.

Harley, not Harleen.

When the fires died down, the papers spun the most amazing yarn.

Amazingly, there had been absolutely no casualties in the fire that caused all the animals to escape … save for one.

The remains of the escaped convict were taken away just as the circus people gave Harley back to her mother. They had rescued her from the flames that had destroyed her clothes. Everyone was simply happy that no one else was seriously injured, and the show could miraculously still go on.

The events of that night were completely lost to time. Those who knew the truth had nothing to back it up. They would not tell the truth even if asked, because everyone knew the truth.

There was a fire.

Animals escaped

A criminal died.

That was a good enough explanation as any.

However, Harley never told anyone that the man had not been trying to hurt _her_ that night.

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"Man plans and God laughs." – Yiddish Saying

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She was dreaming.

She must have been drugged.

Well, she _knew_ she had been drugged, but after that … she _may_ have been doused some more.

What other explanation could there be to what appeared in her brain?

It had to be a dream, since she knew for a fact that in real life she did not have giant floppy rabbit ears sticking out of the top of her head, nor did she have a fluffy white tail. And there was certainly no version of Harley—that she knew of—that was a two-dimensional cartoon character with eyes triple regular size. And as much as she enjoyed it at home, she would not run around a large flower meadow wearing nothing but a red and blue bow on those bunny ears of hers.

There was a chance that she may devour as many cute carrot-shaped lollipops she could get a hold on—especially if they were cute and tasty enough.

None of that explained why Bunny-Harley suddenly pulled a cellphone out of her ear when it started ringing, nor why she gathered a bunch of her burlier, jester-hatted male bunny followers to leave their cozy red and blue meadow and invade the neighboring forest. This forest happened to be made up of entirely physically impossibly twisted trees, with trunks made of purple neon lights, and fuzzy, sparkly gold leaves. She just picked up her bat and walked straight ahead.

Bunny-Harley and her merry troupe then came across a fortified cave, where all the crooked rats of the forest kept their goodies. They were able to infiltrate their cave quite easily, but as soon as they arrived, Bunny-Harley found that someone else was trying to steal all the goodies as well.

This other thief was none other than her notorious rival, Lion-Joker.

There were pictures drawn all over his white fur, his giant radiant mane was bright green, and when he curled his lips back he revealed silver fangs. Bunny-Harley didn't like him at all; this big kitty was trying to butt in on her fun. When he roared, all of Bunny-Harley's troupe ran away, and the white lion dragged Bunny-Harley off to his den to devour her.

Only as soon as they got to Lion-Joker's, he transformed from a scary lion into an even scarier new form. Just like her, he turned into a human shape with lion ears and a lion tail. His wild green mane was even more radiant when she saw how his claws and silver fangs remained as he licked his lips at her.

Silly Bunny-Harley ran when she thought he was going to eat her, only to be shocked that once he finally caught her, he didn't eat her at all.

Well … not in that sense, anyway.

And that was where things became fuzzy for Bunny-Harley.

The strangest thing was that right after Lion-Joker pulled a cherry out of the little flower between her legs … that was when he started f**king her.

This was definitely a dream.

Because how on earth could she have her cherry popped and be deflowered?

That was just physically impossible.

Yeah, completely.

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"If you give the devil a hair, he'll want the whole beard." – Yiddish Saying

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What woke her up was a beeping noise.

It was her phone.

You gonna get that? We want to sleep …

Sleep still was fogging over her mind when she moved her hand toward the noise. Harley's hands were dangling off the side of the mattress, so using her hands to look for the device was only a small movement. Her fingers found the stiff material of the harness that acted as a case, and eventually she brought the little beeping object to her face.

It was still very dark, so she winced when the little light appeared in front of her eyes. She turned around onto her back, using the pillow to prop up her head while she held the phone above her. Her eyes blinked for several seconds before she saw that … she had "One New Message".

 _ _YOUR SERVICE WITH THIS TELEPHONE PROVIDER HAS BEEN TERMINATED.__

That was when the message swiftly disappeared, and the phone went black.

Damn it!

Harley had only one measly little chance of help—and how did they help?

 _ _She gave you a great big shove under the bus, that's what!__

 _ _Who agreed to her deal anyway?__

 _ _Not me.__

Without another thought, and without looking up, Harley hurled the phone away from her and towards what she hoped was a wall. She heard a satisfying crash, and closed her eyes with a smile after knowing the thing had been destroyed.

 _ _Wait … why do we need her help again?__

 _ _Oh yeah, we're just fine … aren't we?__

Harley shifted around under the covers, trying to snuggle back into the warmth of slumber.

 _ _Yep.__

 _ _No complaints here.__

 _"_ Oh, shut up …" Harley felt herself whisper.

She was really getting tired of them talking all the time.

However, she never expected a reply, nor did she expect it to be so sweetly smooth as it purred into her ear, "Kinda hard to do without speaking."

Oh … no.

HOW THE HELL HAD SHE FORGOTTEN ABOUT HIM?!

All sleepiness forgotten, Harley's eyes opened widely as she sat up almost immediately.

An opposing force immediately pulled her right back down and she flopped back down on the mattress. Almost as soon as she tried getting up again, a firm weight pressed her back down. There was a smile against the pulse on her neck as arms came up to push down on hers.

"Morning," was the whisper in her ear.

 _ _Good morning Mistah__ _ _ **Jay**__ _ _!__

How Harley had managed to forget about the man she'd just had sex with was something she would have to work out later.

Wait, they did have sex right?

 _If you mean penis into vagina ... then yeah._

Well, that wasn't really certain ...

 _Was there something else other than his dick that he shoved up your_ _—?_

 _You had sex, just admit it._

She suppressed a moan.

 _ _Stupid, stupid Harley__ _—_ that was her that time.

Wait, morning? How long had she been asleep?

Finally opening her eyes, the blonde found an all too familiar pair of blue eyes staring at hers, the face of the kingpin of Gotham only a hair's width away from hers. She could feel him grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"So, which one of those voices is acting up?" he asked her softly.

Harley paused. She didn't recall telling him anything about her brain companions. Last time he asked a question like that, she let something slip.

With a mischievous smile, she simply blinked innocently. "Voices?" she echoed.

His hand came up to cup her head, stroking her jaw line. "Better question is; which Harley am I talking to right now?"

Harley froze at this question. What did he mean, which one?

That was it!

Not only did this person completely screw up her robbery, he dragged her away from the scene … and had his way with her.

 _Like you were complaining?_

Harley was mad, and she was not going to let that slide! All of the events of the previous evening came back to her as she became aware of how sore her body was. Her limbs ached all over, and she could feel the bruises and scabs forming where her skin had been broken.

She wouldn't be able to dance for a week!

 _ _That is …__ _ _ **if**__ _ _we ever dance again … oh yeah, are you still trying to get out of here?__

 _Harley concealed her irritation in a sly smile._

She wanted answers!

Wrapping her legs around his torso, Harley jabbed a finger in a spot on his spine. As soon as she felt his arms go limp for a split second, she took the opportunity to strike. Once she was sitting upright, she planted her knee directly at his throat and made sure to put her full weight on his upper chest.

If the weight wasn't enough to keep him still, no air in his lungs would help.

She was only too disappointed to see the clown laughing his head off. "Regular Harley then," he muttered.

Maintaining her sweet persona, her eyes glistened at him from her position. The least she could do was have some fun.

"There's only one Harley …" she sang at him, reaching her arms above her to stretch.

 _S_ he was completely aware that the only thing covering her modesty was a thin veil of her own hair, and even that was only partial. The faded pink and blue strands were only hanging over her one shoulder from her movement.

Harley made absolute certain to accentuate her bare breasts by arching her back in the process.

If her strength didn't overcome him, she needed some kind of back-up.

As she brought her hands down her waist sensually with a moan, she turned on him to flick her fingers over his nose. "And this Harley is the one who's going to snap your neck if you don't answer some questions … "

To her chagrin, the clown simply brightened at this, coming to attention. "All ears, dearest."

Her face instantly wrinkled, and she glared at him with a growl. "Stop calling me that!"

"What, you don't like 'dearest'?"

"No."

"Honey better?"

"No."

"Sweetheart?"

"No!"

"How about—?"

This time she smacked him, clean across the face. The only reaction was more laughter. Harley growled internally; she was in charge of this situation, darn him! She was the one that held him in the death grip.

Why was he still smiling!

There was another gleam on his face as he turned back to look at her. "Oh … I love when you're feisty—do it again, do it again!" he taunted, taking a bite out of thigh right next to his neck.

Harley flinched at the bite, and moved to hit him again. Only he was still smiling.

Damn it.

He liked it when she hit him.

The threat of pain or death would not work with him.

Pushing him away from her, Harley gravitated over to the edge of the bed, removing all contact from him. She took a brief examination around the room. It was much darker than before, but everything looked like it had before she passed out. There was no day light streaming in through the hallway as it had before to brighten it. The sun was probably set, but she didn't know if that meant it was really late or really early.

It had been about midday when she arrived, right?

Although she was only departed from him for a fraction of a minute, it took almost no time for her to feel a set of warm hands wrap around her stomach. She was pulled firmly back against his rock solid chest, and Harley suppressed a whimper of pain.

 _ _Owie …__

Mistah Jay was actually being gentle—for him, but Harley was just still so sore.

"Where are you going, hm?" he muttered.

Harley instantly began squirming, smacking at the hands around her waist. "Let go!" she protested, not caring how immature it was sounding.

She didn't feel him smiling, but she was released. Immediately using her newfound freedom to take a defensive stance almost like a predator. However, her bed-mate seemed to like this and took it as initiative. There was a primal light in his eyes as he closed in on her.

To keep the distance between them, Harley placed a foot on his chest to stop his movement, holding onto the bed's foot board to hold her stance.

"Here kitty, kitty …" he purred.

Images of her dream flashed in front of her eyes. The image of him with a large, fluffy mane haloing his face and sharp pointy teeth came and left before she could stop it.

 _ _He's the kitty here, not you …__

"Not a kitty!" she exclaimed. Harley didn't know who exactly she was talking to, but at that point she didn't think it mattered; all parties needed the same information. She knew she was pouting, and she knew she was whining, but she really didn't care.

Harley was more preoccupied with the figure in front of her.

That very same figure who rose up onto his knees to tower over her, allowing her foot to remain on his chest. She was fully aware of how he could have moved it at any time he wished; he did not want to.

He was toying with her.

He was teasing her, just like a cat with a mouse.

 _Or a lion with a bunny ..._

And he liked it a lot.

Harley did not know if that was such a good thing.

It was then that Harley was bluntly reminded of his state of dress … or in his case, undress. There wasn't a single piece of cloth on his entire form. The form in front of her was nothing less than a sculptured statue of a man. Sleek, chisseled abdomen illuminating the pale marble of living flesh that he labeled as skin. The bold dark lines of all the tattoos all over his body stood out even more.

From the all of the sketchy "HA HA Ha"s etched all over his left forearm and pectoral, to the set of flaming aces adorning his neck, everything seemed so magnificently intense from where she was positioned. The faceless skull wearing the tri-pointed hat on his other shoulder only seemed to laughing at, even more than the toothy grin stretched across his navel. She knew there had been more of those, the smiling lips. But they didn't seem as intimidated as the very word sprawled right across his upper abdominal muscles.

 _Oh, you could scrub laundry on those …_

 _Like we do laundry …_

Harley found her eyes trailing down south, and was so happy that her own leg was in the way to block her view of … that.

But he saw her.

Just as the word said, the "JOKER" was even more pleased that Harley took the moment to scan over his figure. He said nothing, but she could see it in his eyes. Her eyes narrowed on his in defiance; he would not get to her that way.

He refused to draw attention to it though, allowing her to wallow in her fury. "No?" he echoed, feigning disappointment at her admission. "Not a kitty? What would you prefer, then? Bambi, puppy or how about—?"

Harley cut him out with an exasperated "GAH!" before she kicked him in the abdomen and jumped off the bed in a rolling motion.

There was no way she'd keep giving him what he wanted!

Only as Harley felt her feet land on the floor, she felt a yelp fall out of her mouth as she began to fall down sideways. With a bang and a crash, she gripped a hold of the only thing within reach. The side table fell over with her, thankfully it took a majority of the blow from the fall before she landed awkwardly entirely on her arm.

Seeing a swift movement behind her, Harley felt the lights from above slowly come on. As soon as she could see, she realized that she hadn't even tripped over anything. What the hell … ?

 _Your legs just gave out, sweetie._

 _It **was** a fun night …_

All she could hear behind her was laughter as she lifted her face from the plush carpet. "Will you just shut up?!" she snapped over her shoulder.

The green-haired god of figure sat up in all his naked glory, completely at ease with his state of undress as he came over to her. Harley did her best to hide her blush at seeing the full frontal nudity of the man before her.

And in particularly, that organ that was just laying there between his legs. She turned away from him to hide her blush with her hair.

 _You had sex with him, and you're embarrassed about that?_

 _I didn't have to **look** at it …_

Surprisingly, the only thing that came to her mind at first was the fact that he was completely hairless from the waist down. Somehow, she'd pictured that bright green hair down there around …

 _What shall we name it? Little "Jay"?_

 _Hey … what part of "Little Jay" is little, hm?_

The only thing she could see was his feet standing next to her form, but by his shadow he cast she could see him crossing his arms over his broad chest, cocking his head to the side. "Need help down there?"

She refused to look at him, refused to acknowledge him.

She did not need him!

No she did not.

 _No debating that …_

 _Such a strong difference between "need" and "want" …_

Restraining a growl, she litterally felt like biting down on the carpet fibers beneath her.

Although she was still face-down on the floor, she felt that it was more dignified than her alternative. His state of undress reminded her of her own—or at least what was left of it. What remained of her fishnets were still firmly on her legs, as were her studded over-the-knee socks. So at least she was somewhat covered, even if her body was twisted awkwardly on the ground.

As she pulled her arms out from under her, she found the fingerless gloves up her arms still on as well. They were absolutely filthy and in tatters, but still there.

Attempting to push herself up with her upper body, she was heard an all too familiar cackling coming down closer to her level. "I can't help if you don't ask …" she heard taunting in her ear.

She swatted at him with her hand, only to feel her face slam into the floor again. The Joker nimbly moved out of the way, completely unfazed by their activities. It was completely unfair! Even then, she could feel the strain against her body from just laying there. Her nipple ached as it brushed up against the carpet—the one he had … bitten.

Her insides quivered.

No. No. No!

"I don't want your help!" she bit out, refusing to look at him as she willed her legs to move again.

"Oh no?" he asked. She felt soft fingertips start to trail up the back of her leg, beginning at the very base of her ankle and tracing its way up.

Harley resisted a shiver, feeling her skin begin to tingle.

"No, I do not!" she gritted as she finally figured out how to shimmy herself just slightly.

With one swift movement, he simply laid himself down next to her, only he positioned himself on his side like he was posing for one of those ancient Greek statues. He held his torso up with his elbow underneath him. She was deliberately avoiding looking at him, but it was pretty hard seeing as there was a painfully obvious limb of his dangling so carelessly next to her.

It seemed that almost every aspect of his body was made with one design feature; direct all eyes directly to his masculinity. Even the way the dip in the muscles outlining his lower abdomen were pointed downwards in an inverted point, a point that was the very thing that defined him as male.

Well, one of the things, anyway.

 _That was inside you last night …_

 _I know!_

 _Well … it could have been last night—we still don't know what time it is._

 _I **know**!_

The tool that he had used to brand a red hot impression inside her body was just so damned intimidating. She had taken plenty of anatomy classes in the past, so she knew what the "standard" was when it came to the male form.

The Joker was not standard … in any regard.

The shaft itself was a good few inches thick, and that was even before it was the full size. Inwardly, Harley couldn't help but note how beautifully sculpted it was. Without a single blemish or disfiguration, it almost looked like it was too perfect to be real.

Despite her attempts to move away from his touch, she felt his fingers press down on he back of her thigh to hold her down. She was stopped dead without consent, and she let out a groan.

She didn't hold back her groan this time, seeing as it wasn't out of pleasure, it was out of annoyance. Burying her face into the carpet, that was actually very refreshingly clean, she smacked her hand against the floor repeatedly, muttering to herself.

Harley was pretty sure the words "damned", "infuriating", and "clown" escaped the muffled scream she said into the floor.

She just didn't care anymore.

All she wanted was to rob a bank—was that so hard to ask for?

"Hm, Harley dearest?" he prompted. "I didn't hear that."

His fingers skipped over the firm skin of her rear end and landed on the small of her back. When she realized a majority of her movements were next to hopeless with him doing that, she let out an exasperated sigh and smacked the floor.

 _"What_ are you doing?" she moaned in annoyance.

"What's it feel like?" he teased, his hands simply trailing up her spine some more to reach her shoulder blades and then neck.

 _Feels like heaven, that's what!_

"Okay, _why_ are you doing that?"

She felt him lean over, his weight resting against hers as he dropped an open-mouthed kiss onto her neck. "I'm trying to distract you," he almost sang into her skin.

"Can't you find someone else to irritate?" she snapped, lifting her head up for a second before burying her face into her arms.

She felt him clasp the side of her waist, and the next thing she knew she was facing the ceiling, arms falling around her head. "Now Harley, why would I do that?" asked the figure that loomed above her.

Harley felt him bury his face into her shoulder, and he said absolutely nothing as he began sucking on it. It took all of her energry not to let out all the noises that were attempting to come out of her throat.

She really did want to start purring like a kitten.

 _You aren't a kitten though._

 _Yeah, you're that other thing …with the floppy ears._

She could do nothing but stare at that way too tall of ceiling above her, that and that very pretty excuse for a window …

All she could hear were the animal like sounds that escaped his throat radiating through her ear as he devoured her skin. Harley attempted to push him away, but she realize that the sudden movement onto her back had started to take its tole—she was a tad dizzy.

Too tired to fight him, Harley felt her head fall back onto the carpet. He held a firm grip on her as his attentions were trailed downwards to her breasts.

Well, that's what you get for shaking them in front of him …

Harley felt herself suppress a moan. He was sucking so gently … This was the one that he had bitten not too long ago. A nice scab was adorning it and making it swollen and painful. But instead of making it worse, he simply lapped at it like his ministrations would heal it. His tongue rough against her sensitive skin, and Harley had to hold onto him tightly when he pulled the entire thing into his mouth. While his lips sucked, the tip of is tongue made circles and figure eights around it, all awhile his teeth tickling the skin around he outside.

This time, she couldn't help the lovely sigh that came from her lips.

 _You were escaping … ?_

 _I was?_

The Joker didn't even bother putting his weight down on her, knowing that there was no way she could move even if she wanted to. In fact, he even pulled her back away from the floor as he simply slid her into his embrace. Her entire front was pressed into him, his head buried in her chest as they laid almost sideways on the carpet.

His lips pulled away from her tight nub and found its way to the other one.

Harley felt her eyes go back in her head.

And she thought she was dizzy before?

She him pull her legs possessively around his waist. For the sake of stabling herself and not falling over, she had no choice but to lock her ankles together. While his hand that was positioned beneath them came up to cup the very top of her thigh, the dip in her skin where leg ended and her rear began. She felt her muscles inside flexing in anticipation.

Her body still wanted him …

His other hand was still wrapped around her waist, remaining at the small of her back for the longest time. Only, his fingers then began to crawl over her skin like a spider as they finally came in contact with her backside. He squeezed down immediately, not even trying to resist being harsh.

Harley felt herself suck in a breath when she felt his fingers delicately inch its way down even further.

 _Oh no …_

 _Oh yes, yes, YES!_

Ducking down even further between her thighs, those agile digits finally found their prize. And that happened to be the still very tender folds of her core. All he did was run his fingers round and round the outter lips, and she could already feel the hot liquid lathering up inside.

He used two of those agile extremities to harshly pass through her heavenly gates. He did to so suddenly, that Harley felt herself nearly shriek as her hips bucked into his hand. He received absolutely no resistance once inside.

Oh, that felt so good …

This time, she did not try to restrain the mewing that trickled out of her lips.

She felt blood rush directly to her nether region, enflaming the skin in heat and moisture. He deliberately avoided her most sensitive little nub, making sure to very slowly slide in and out of the pale flesh. With every deep stroke, he accompanied it with a gentler one that curled up towards her center. He steadily grew faster and bolder. Her body reacted to it positively, letting out enough hot nectar to take away almost any resistance that was left.

Her eyes were heavy as she clung to his back, shaky fingers digging into his flesh. This only seemed to encourage him, because he immediately released her neck and began trailing up her jaw.

"Not a kitten, hm?" he whispered as his mouth got closer to her mouth. "Not a kitten indeed …"

Harley was the one to initiate the kiss this time, wrapping her hands around his shoulders. Completely taking control of the situation, she used what was left of her strength to push him back onto the floor on his back so that she could climb over him. Her lips covered his own and she instantly began to nip and pry at them for entrance. She wanted to taste him again.

"Patience …" he scolded into her mouth.

Only he pulled his lips away, and his fingers became completely still. She whimpered at the lack of attention, attempting to kiss him again.

His free hand came up to place a finger on her lips. "Ah ah," he tisked. "Harley has been a bad girl …"

She pouted her frown as she let out a small tantrum. "I have not …!" she whined.

"Yes you have, babydoll," he whispered, eyes gleaming.

Harley squirmed against his hand. She whined and mewled when he refused to yield to her. Legs on either side of him, she bent them even more as she opened herself up to him. She pressed down into his hand, bucking her hips so as to feel him even further inside of her. "You're being mean …" she protested.

Only he pulled his fingers from her center, and she instantly missed the warm contact; she felt completely hollow without him there.

She shook her head violently, burying her head into his shoulder. "No, I want more!"

"That's not how we get what we want, baby," he instructed in a growl, curling his other hand around her hip. "No crying, no pouting."

Looking up to his eyes, she was suddenly determined. "But I—"

"If Harley wants more, she has to ask …" he instructed, keeping eye contact.

Ask?

Was that it?

"Can you—?"

Only he cut her off with a fierce glare. "No," he said, and Harley suddenly felt his tone become dark. It wasn't as playful as before.

She looked down at him with confusion.

He said ask.

Had she not done that?

"You say … "Please"," he finally instructed.

Harley finally found her eyes caught up with his. "… please?" she whimpered at him from behind a heavy lip.

"Please … who?"

"Please Mistah Jay …"

"Please Mistah Jay … what?" he whispered, chest heaving as his face came closer to hers. "What does Harley want from Mistah Jay?"

That was a good question.

What did she want?

 _You want him to keep f**king you, little you idiot!_

The words came out of her mouth before she could fathom their intensity. "Harley wants Mistah Jay to touch her," she said breathlessly. "Pretty, pretty please."

The darkness in his eyes intensified, and she realized how much more the warmth inside of her was pooling when she was caught in his gaze.

"See, now, was that so hard … ?"

Harley felt her world turn around completely as she found herself on her back again, her legs still caught around the waist of the man above her as he slid his hands into the crooks of her knees so he could pull her legs apart and position himself between them.

It took Harley absolutely no time to realize the change, notice the pulsating engorged flesh that was prodding at her entrance. She let out a sigh of relief and a giggle as she clung tighter to him. "Pretty, pretty, _pretty_ please," she babbled incoherently.

Only he seemed to hear her beckoning, as she felt such a terrible heat scorching her entrance. This time she could look down to where they met to see what was "knocking" at her door. It was so big, so much bigger than just a few moments ago. Everything about him was extreme, from his size to the speed in which he was able to present his stimulation.

That was for her.

That was for her …

 _Yes ... that's for yo—mother of all things holy!_

He was not gentle as he invaded her, coming in so swiftly that she barely had time to collect her breath so she could let out a terrible cry. She didn't know if she was in pain, but she did know it felt so very good. It felt even better than before. Although he did it so quickly, he did take a moment to pause as soon as he was completely inside. He filled her up so much she could feel him pushing against her very stomach, a prominent bulge forming there.

It had been so wonderful that she couldn't help but close her eyes when she started to spasm with pleasure. She could barely see him above her her eyes would not remain still, but she did notice how he closed his eyes deeply for a split second and let out a growl that was completely inhuman.

Dropping her legs, he fiercely took a hold of the floor beside of her as he began to move. His inward thrusting was met by a cry each time it hit her deepest darkness, followed by a whimper as soon as he pulled away. Her noises were only amplified and intensified when they clashed with the brutishly untamed howls that he was producing. They were only hushed just a fraction when she felt his lips descend down upon hers.

His tongue savagely tore apart the inside of her mouth, and all she could think as she was just about choking on the warm wet appendage was how much she wanted it inside further. The sounds that she groaned into him were only even more exaggerated had how harshly he was sucking.

It felt like he was sucking the life force out of her.

As much energy as he took from her body, it was only replaced with the completely and total elation that was the clouds inside her brain. There was no way she was on the planet anymore. She had to be flying.

The movement was much too intense, to harsh. Bucking back and forth between them, the amount of carnal force between them enough to break bones or rip flesh. And that was exactly what happened when she found her her hands digging into his back, finding absolutely nothing else to hold onto.

His movements became slower as she felt her breath hitch. She was getting closer, she could feel it. This time, he was drawing it out longer.

He was teasing her again.

All she could do was giggle.

 _Yes please._

That had been her that time.

Harley wanted to brace herself for the wave that was about to hit her. However, she never had time. The moment she thought of it, she felt her body begin to shiver and shake. It was coming faster than she had anticipated.

She pulled her mouth from his as she realized how her teeth would clench. Every single muscle inside her body tensed up and trembled, and she could almost see every nerve in her body lighting up from how overly stimulated they were becoming.

The howls that pierced through the the room only started to make her voice harsh as soon as she felt that one, last, deep … horrific push.

She felt teeth digging into her shoulder as that sharp, biting heat penetrated every crevice of her insides, permanently burning a signature into her.

Harley felt herself wheezing rapidly as her body collapsed on itself onto the floor. Her head was stretched out behind her as she noticed how much the furniture was dancing in her line of vision.

She felt the warmth slide out of her insides and she instantly was made aware of the other shallow breaths heaving along with her own. A steady hand came up to cup her face and turn it towards the figure that loomed above her.

As she blinked up at him, she could see a large green halo shining from above him. She giggled as she attempted to chase it with her hand.

"Lion …" she babbled.

His voice was raspy in her ear, but as charismatic as ever. "Lion?"

She bit her lip as she nodded enthusiastically. "Hm-hm—my big lion …"

"Oh, Mistah Jay is the lion, hm?"

Her nose wrinkled as she felt something tickling her nose. "Lion … king of jungle …"

"That's right," he agreed thoroughly. "So what is Harley?"

Stretching her arms over her head, she realized how sleepy she was when she responded. "Bunny rabbit," she answered as she gestured to her nonexistent pigtails. "Can't you see the ears?"

There was nibbling on the edges of her mouth as she heard a reply. "Bunny, hm?"

"Yep, bunny."

As Harley attempted to blink the clouds out of her head, she heard him reply, "Maybe now, my little Harlequin … but we shall have see what I can turn you into. 'Cause I wanna hear you roar for me …"

Roar … ?

Why roar, she wondered?

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"Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever." ―Mahatma Gandhi

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There was one person who knew everything that happened the night of the fire … that fire that provoked Harley the very first time.

That was the same person that never allowed Harley out again, the one who locked her away for a very long time.

But not out of fearing Harley, but fearing something else entirely.

Harleen was the only one allowed after that "traumatic" incident. Harleen stayed as far away from other people as humanly possible, and this person made sure of it until their dying breath. Harley couldn't hurt anyone if there was no one to hurt.

When Dina Quinzel begged tearfully, her daughter agreed to be "Harleen" from there on out. That was because she knew that if anyone found out, they would take her away from her mother.

They would lock her mother away and hurt her again.

All Harley would see of her was the frail, lifeless entity from the opposite side of a door. She would be an entity that had once been ambitious young woman, an exceptionally talented actress. She had been such a brave a young woman too, brave enough to run away from her wealthy and overly controlling parents.

Brave enough to elope with a man forbidden to her, and was just as equally dangerous to her health.

Dina had been the same woman who drifted in and out of rehab with the same husband that would die of an overdose only weeks before discovering that he would be a father. She was a woman that was heartbroken when her parents refused to let their nineteen-year-old daughter inside from the rain when she was eight months pregnant, freshly released from prison for "killing" her dealer in an intoxicated rage.

Harleen was the only thing that Dina loved, the only thing she had left in the world.

To keep her near, her mother was slowly killing herself from the excruciating work and abuse from those supposed to be protecting her. Harleen, the pale ghost of a little girl that Dina shielded from the rest of humanity, was the only thing that was left in her world.

But Dina had a daughter that was also ... quite unruly.

Harley fought for control.

Harley emerged many times.

Harley killed many times.

And Harley won against Dina.

Dina covered for Harley, telling others that she was behind all the acts of violence and that she was intoxicated again. Even if she had been sober for years, she would still confess to it.

Each and every time Harley came out, Dina would be placed in a cage and baited like a wounded animal. They pumped her full of chemicals, and left her a sobbing mess in the corner. Harleen was left to watch. It did not matter that she wanted to hug her mother. They would not let her.

But Harley was eventually silenced … for quite a long time.

All it took was seeing her mother smile at her so softly, her arm outstretched towards her daughter, as the life slowly faded from Dina's eyes.

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"Did you think the lion was sleeping because he didn't roar?" – Friedrich Schiller, Die Verschwörung des Fiesco zu Genua

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"Are you going to give me an explanation?"

Sigh.

"Hm … nope."

Pause.

"I told you that I would stay out of your way, Ms. Quinn, but I also told you that you needed to remain low profile."

"I am remaining low profile."

"'Pratts Found Butchered in Their Home'?"

Laugh.

"My name was nowhere near that newspaper article."

"Your name was not, but you were."

"That's something only you can see, boss lady."

Pause.

"They were beaten to death—hearts were painted with their blood all over their home. Did you really think you could hide this from me?"

Giggle.

"I wasn't trying to hide it. Consider it an audition. Do you like what you're paying for?"

"On the contrary, I'm beginning to reconsider our terms. You did this against orders."

Laugh.

"This is not funny, Ms. Quinn."

"Yes it is. You were the one complaining about funding; I just gave you more money than even you know what to do with—as unlikely as that sounds."

"The Pratts' money?"

"Well, it's your money now. Seeing as that the old fuddy-duddies had only one heir, all of that dough goes right to the state—which is you in this case."

"If there is an heir, then why would they give up this much money?"

"That "heir" is none other than someone whose identity you erased a few months ago."

Pause.

"Their granddaughter … who had the pleasure of playing with them one last time."

Giggle.

Glare.

"Come on, did you really not know about them?"

Pause

"I did."

"Of course you did. You know everything. But …?"

"I was not aware that you even knew who they were. The Pratts disowned their daughter before her death."

"But not their granddaughter … they forgot her."

Pause.

"You're welcome, boss lady."

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(Author's Note: Thank you for all your kind words. I cannot express how truly dear your reviews are to me, nor can I explain how much they push me forward.

I apologize for the delay in updating, but as many of you are aware, life gets in all of our ways. I realize this one is a little shorter than the last, but I can assure you I added many things for "fillers" so to speak. The fillers for me might just simply be a lot of HxJ smut, but I see no one complaining about that ...

I do hope to keep going with this one for a little while, although I cannot guarantee weekly postings. I wish to make sure my chapters are all of the same quality, so I take longer sometimes. I will update as often as I can however.

Your feedback has been quite helpful with this chapter, and I can only humbly ask for more about this one. I have my own plans in store, however I am never afraid of more options. How about in addition to telling me what you liked about this chapter, you also give me suggestions for what you may like to see in the future? I cannot make guarantees, but I will read all of them and take them into consideration. Although, I must warn you that this is from Harley's prospective, so you probably will not be getting Mistah Jay's point-of-view, unless it really calls for it.

Please note, although I plan for these two to be hitting the sheets more than a few times, I will be getting these two out of the bedroom in the immediate future, so try coming up with something outside of that topic. The scene here was not planned, but as is life.

I left a few unanswered questions in this chapter, like I will with many. If you guess correctly to them, I will confirm them for you. As for what those questions are, well ... he he he.)

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	4. Chapter 4

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Pygmalion

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Chapter 4

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"Don't send a dog to the butcher shop." – Yiddish Saying

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"You want me to play with them … but not to kill them?"

"That is exactly what I said."

Giggle.

"But that's so boring—I can't even kill _one_ of them?"

"Not a single one."

Laugh.

"I think you've found your sense of humor, boss-lady."

"Do I look like I'm kidding?"

"You _look_ like you swallowed a lemon while someone was giving you a prostate exam, but I don't judge."

Glare.

"I don't want to tell you how to do your job, but wouldn't killing them just make your life … I don't know, easier?"

"On the contrary, it would be the complete opposite."

"In what way?"

Pause.

"What happens when you knock off the highest point of the pyramid, Ms. Quinn?"

Laugh.

"Ah … I get it. You've already put all you've got into the kingpins out there—don't wanna have to deal with the ones who come up after their dead. No dirt on them, hm?"

"I'm glad we're on the same page."

"Okay, so no killing. But everything else goes, right?"

"Do as you wish, but make sure they're alive afterwards."

"Oh goody! Keeping them alive just makes things more fun!"

Pause.

"One more thing."

"Hm?"

"There is one leader in particular whose path you should never cross, even by accident."

"And that person would be … ?"

"You know him very well—at least, Dr. Quinzel did. He would have been her patient, if she had made it to work that morning."

Pause.

Glare.

Glare.

"… no promises."

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"You can discover more about a person in an hour of play than in a year of conversation." – Plato

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Harley was aware of the fact that there were many times in her life when … she couldn't quite remember what she did, or why she did things. It was a brief period of time where everything went black, literally. During that time, not only could she not remember what happened, none of the voices in her head did either.

It was almost like her brain went into a "shut down" mode.

Weird, right?

This was not when "Harlequin" took over—no, she was always fully conscious of her actions in those instances. Instead, this was an entirely different state of mind. Thankfully, these moments only lasted for a matter of seconds, never longer. But for whatever she did during those instants, anything could happen.

Anything did happen.

And this was definitely the case when she woke up from, what the psychiatric field called, a "fugue" state.

There was a gun in her hand, raised in front of her smoking. The gun glistened with gold and jewels on the outside. It was so tiny it only held one small bullet, and it also happened to be dripping wet.

Harley was standing up straight, standing completely naked in one of the biggest tubs she'd ever seen before. The only thing covering her bare, dripping form was all the foamy pink and blue suds that made up her bath water.

Harley blinked.

Where was she again?

 _Harley, this was not one of your best ideas._

She was standing in a tub that was completely sunken into the floor, the pure white tiles illuminated with gold and gems. It was literally big enough to hide a least … ten bodies if drained and covered. No, make that twelve.

 _Wow … really big._

Her eyes looked around when she heard a water running somewhere in the background.

She examined the gun in her hands.

Had she fired this?

 _Yes, you fired it!_

 _He's gonna bleed out if you don't do something fast!_

That was when she noticed the half dressed figure laying on the ground, completely still. There was a pool of blood trickling from his shoulder.

Wait a minute … was that—?

 _Oh shit!_

Harley dropped the gun and it fell into the water as she scrambled out of the bubbles and ran over to the unconscious clown. Still dripping wet, she crouched over the lifeless form on the floor. The green-haired man made absolutely no sound as she touched him She saw his chest rising and falling, and realized that he was still alive.

Completely forgetting that she wasn't wearing clothes, Harley turned the Joker over onto his back. Blood was coming out of a tiny hole on his neck, the wound merely a graze. It was already starting to clot.

 _You killed the Joker!_

 _You killed Mistah Jay!_

 _That was like … the only thing you were told **not** to do!_

 _That and not meet him, but since that bridge was **completely** burnt to ashes … _

_He's still breathing …_ That was her that time.

 _Barely …_

Harley inspected him quickly. There was no evidence of any other wound than the one on his neck, and the bump on his head. Drawing the conclusion that he must have fallen over from the dramatic drop in blood pressure, she realized the reason for his unconscious state was from the blow to his head when it landed on the tile.

She immediately stripped off the purple silk pajama top that he had been wearing, making it easier that he didn't even have it buttoned. She left his pants where they were, seeing as they were absolutely no use to her.

Ripping the fabric to shreds, she formed a tourniquet to wrap around the wound, making sure not to suffocate him in the process. With what was left of the sleeveless shirt, she put on herself. She buttoned it up the first few buttons around her neck before tying the rest of the loose fabric beneath her breasts. With the remaining shreds of the sleeve she hadn't used on the clown, she fastened the closest thing to a pair of panties she could muster from a pair of triangles in a few seconds.

Once in her new ensemble, she looked around.

 _Where am I?_

 _The bathroom._

 _Don't you remember that … **lovely** bath?_

After their last "activities" on the floor, Harley had been quite content for a few moments while she basked in her afterglow. All the voices in her head finally shut up for a few moments, so she was able to relax for once.

Sadly, the king of Gotham wasn't happy with her relaxing.

She didn't remember why, but he sat up from the floor after their little session and Harley remembered he'd had a strange look on his face. Well, from her passed out angle on the floor, she could see him looking at the bed in a very "odd" manner. She blinked at it, and then the next thing she knew she was being hoisted up and carried into the bathroom.

Actually, calling it a bathroom was a little bit of an understatement.

 _A little?_

The thing was ginormous—more square feet than the sleeping area.

Although it looked somewhat normal when walking in at first—tile floors, counters and mirrors—it was an ordinary bathroom. Sadly, this was just the "foyer" to the entire place, as it was actually just a balcony to a swimming pool sized body of water. The pool was two balconies beneath them, completely full with a waterfall coming down into it. And a slide! A water slide into the water!

 _We really have to learn to swim …_

It was a f**kin' lagoon!

Thankfully the clown did not send her down the ominous slide, and instead took her over to an even more daunting shower that was big enough to be a walk in closet. She remembered wondering if it doubled as sauna. The Joker put her down on the built-in set of stairs inside (she was sure sitting on them was their main function anyway) and then turned on the hot water. Then, he stripped her of what was left of her clothes and threw them away before he started hosing her off.

 _Well, he was a tad bit more gentle than that …_

Okay, so he held her in his lap while he lathered soap all over her skin with a rather soft sponge. But no matter how many times Harley protested, or moaned from her half-asleep state, he wouldn't let her go until until he was satisfied.

His satisfaction did not come until after all the caked on blood that had dried around the inside of her thighs was gone, and the water going down the drain was no longer red.

The Joker had not let her see his face during that little episode.

 _That had been really weird too …_

Of course the entire time, she was almost certain she was babbling about anything that came to mind, from replying to the voices in her head to commenting on the gold tiles she was looking at. Strangely, the person giving her the impromptu bath was quiet throughout this. It had almost been like he didn't hear her.

Afterwards he earned her silence with a glass of grape soda with sparkles inside. She'd been so thirsty she didn't care that it had been drugged.

It didn't make her sleepy—quite the opposite.

She was wide awake and extremely horny after that took full effect.

She could still remember how cold the tiles were against her breasts and nipples as she gladly let him f**k her again. They had been bucking like wild animals for hours, until the water coming down on them was ice cold.

 _You were showing off how flexible you were …_

 _While Mistah Jay was showing off how much … endurance he had._

Oh yeah, that.

 _How long did that one session last? Three hours?_

 _No, four._

 _It was a four hour build-up and a ten minute high, sweetie …_

What Harley did remember that after the shower, he didn't even bother drying her off he simply took her back to bedroom. She remembered that the sheets were changed while they had been gone, and a good number of things had been added.

Harley remembered the contents of the bedroom.

Apparently, the Joker was a lavish gift-giver.

The area that housed the monstrosity that the Joker called a bed was newly adorned with enough blue and red roses to make her head spin, and enough gift baskets and packages to make her dizzy. Not to mention the giant white stuffed rabbit that was currently occupying the bed.

What the hell happened while she passed out?

 _A lot …_

She remembered that they went back on the bed, and then … yeah, a lot did happen. This time, she used her newfound strength and energy—from that lovely cocktail he had given her—to enjoy a few more "activities".

 _Well, there was the Cowgirl and the Outlaw …_

 _Then Miss Doctor and Patient …_

 _Then the naughty Schoolgirl and Teacher …_

 _Oh, don't forget Mistah Lion and Miss Bunny!_

How the hell had she forgotten about those fuzzy pink bunny ears, hm?

… five broken tables, six maimed delivery boys, three sets of shredded sheets, twelve bottles of cherry rum, and four days later …

 _… and a partridge in a pear tree …_

Mistah Jay was finally worn out … for the time being.

Either that, or he had just gotten bored.

He dragged Harley off to the bathroom again, this time for a bath. This one was on the first balcony beneath them, overlooking the "lagoon" below. He filled the tub with bubbles that tasted like cotton candy. Harley was only too disappointed when he wouldn't let her eat all of it. He held her firmly in his lap while he kissed each and every one of the bruises that had developed on her skin.

 _Yeah, then he gave you more …_

She remembered giggling as he nipped at her thighs.

Harley didn't remember where or how she found the gun, but she _did_ remember right after he got out of the water to dry himself off, he had said something to her that …. "set her off", so to speak.

All she heard were his mumbled words as he pulled on his pajamas.

Then next thing Harley knew, she was standing there with the smoking gun in her hands.

So … apparently here had been a reason to shoot him while she'd been out of it.

Hm, must have been pretty bad …

But she instantly remembered that she was told specifically _not_ to kill the Joker, at all costs. So that was why she made sure he was alive before she made a break for it.

What had he said to her anyway?

 _You don't remember?_

 _He said, and I quote, "What has …"_

Harley instantly covered her hears, humming and making the most immature noises. "La la la!" she muttered. "I can't hear you."

 _You know very well what he said._

That was true, but that did not mean she wanted to hear it again.

It had been a joke about a ball and chain—and she hated the punchline.

She wanted to forget it at all costs!

But she couldn't, seeing as it was the reason for her "answer" to his joke. As soon as he'd said it, Harley realized something very … extremely important.

Gunshot went off seconds after she did.

So there Harley was, in a bathroom that could house a family of seals, trying to find something to help her.

But for the stupidest reason, she had a giant smile on her face.

Why?

She was just having too much fun.

Allowing her instincts to take over, Harley put her brain on hold. After completely emptying all the bathroom drawers, she finally found what she had been looking for—a brand new bright red lipstick. It had its own spot next to the hundred other fresh ones in the drawer. It took her only a few seconds to apply it to her lips, and to write out her message on the mirror afterwards. She left a kiss as her signature beneath it.

Then, she she crouched over "Puddin'" before whispering a thank you in his ear, and leaving an identical kiss mark on his cheek.

That was when she ran up the stairs and back into the bedroom.

Instantly looking around her, Harley analyzed all the tools available to her. The first thing she did was grab one of those giant lollipops from the giant daisy-shaped display before placing it into her mouth.

 _Mm, strawberry._

Harley grabbed the couch and dragged it over to block the bathroom door before her hands landed on one of the bigger vases of flowers. She poured out the flowers and water all over the floor as she went over to what she hoped was the closet.

Indeed it was, and indeed it belonged to the Joker.

It was bigger than most mid-sized homes, and rivaled the bathroom in size—it was at least four stories high. The clown king had enough suits to cloth himself everyday for all of his life sentences, and then some. She was more surprised that there were colors other than purple inside; lots of gold, black and red. Thankfully, there was a full display of weapons right next to his jewelry case.

Harley threw the vase through the glass, and instantly grabbed a belt of bullets to wrap around her waist and carry her knives as she gathered the fire arms that seemed the most fun. Then, a glimmer caught her eye.

She plucked up a gaudy necklace with "Joker" carved out of the gold pendant, and put it around her neck. It had been so long that it slipped under the shirt she was wearing, resting right between her breasts.

Harley also made sure to examine herself in the mirror.

 _Now isn't that just perfect?_

Still barefoot, she managed to run through the house with ease seeing as that it was still dark outside. She went back through his room and into the hall, through the newly installed door, and down the hall. Harley finally found a set of stairs leading down, and ran through the gymnasium that was the living room. Thankfully, here was no one to stop her.

She had no idea it was, but it turned out daybreak was the only time goons slept.

After this, she ran around a little bit. She got a little lost when she saw that there were sections of the house that suddenly cut off and she found herself in what looked like an industrial plant. The Joker's house was built inside a factory.

 _Ingenious_ _._

 _Why didn't we think of that?_

 _Because our hideout is much cooler …_

It definitely explained the lack of light coming through the ceiling—and the lack of any windows that weren't the ceiling.

The factory sections were a maze of twisted halls, decorated with florescent green and purple graphite and disturbingly grotesque steel structures. They couldn't be called statues, seeing as it looked as if someone had accidentally poured steel in various places all over the halls; like someone had been sloshing around a giant vat of molten steel and forgot it would harden.

That was when she found an answer to all the steel when she found a large broken sign hanging from the main bay. This factory was actually a steel mill.

 _Had_ been a steel mill.

 _We need to look up who Sionis is later._

It explained "chimney or forge" from earlier—both of which were customized fun-houses she passed as she broke into the security room to find a way of opening the doors.

All the steel was gone, and it had been replaced with a good number of vehicles. All cars in their owner's favorite color, but all of them modified in unique ways. There was a flamethrower on the front hood of the Maserati.

 _We have to get one of those!_

 _The car or the flamethrower?_

 _Both!_

After she blew it up with one of the few grenades she had on her, she realized he'd be needing another soon too.

However, the big bang of an explosion caused quite a few goons to be flushed out of … wherever they had been.

Johnny was quite nice when she asked him to open the doors for her. He didn't even flinch when she held a gun to his head. All he wanted to know was if Mistah Jay was dead or not. Once she assured him his boss was still breathing when she left him only minutes ago, he was only too happy to instruct the other goons to open the bay doors while he went off to … probably call a doctor or something.

However, the head henchman did not have to bother.

Because the clown of crime marched right into the chaos shooting down his own men if they stood in his way.

Harley didn't even mind that the clown in question had recovered quite quickly from his injuries. He was definitely well enough to be coming through the doors with a hand gun in hand and a very pissed off expression on his face. Barking orders, they were mainly about making sure Harley did not go anywhere. Sadly, Harley lost most of her new toys to the several dozen goons she started dancing with.

Well, she didn't kill all of them …

She had not been giving the clown much attention, but did see him with a satisfied grin when she was finally cornered and out of ammunition. There was only one thing she could do when she found the goons closing in on her.

With a giggle and twist, Harley delightedly grabbed the first goon that was near her, and kissed him firmly on the mouth.

There was a very awkward pause after this, and when Harley pulled away she was very confused for a few seconds.

The Joker broke the silence by emptying all his bullets into the poor guy's head.

Exactly as planned.

 _Poor goony …_

 _Hey, occupational hazard …_

With her primary threat momentarily disarmed, Harley swung from overhanging walkway to walkway until she dropped down on the closest car, the armored assault vehicle with grinning silver teeth instead of a grill. By the time the clown of crime finally managed to get his hands on another gun (or more bullets, she really wasn't paying that much attention), Harley was laughing ecstatically as she ran from car to car, dodging every single bullet fired in her direction. She even did a few cartwheels as she landed onto the ground.

She finally found the car she had been looking for, the Lamborghini that brought her there in the trunk, and she bashed the window in with the empty gun in her hands before she climbed inside.

Harley laughed when she looked inside.

 _Someone_ had left the keys in the ignition …

Like there was another car she would have picked?

Despite the order to close the doors and amount of bullets raining down on her, Harley didn't even wait for the car to completely warm up before she started revving the engine. She pushed the gas pedal to the floor and crashed directly through the doors. The steel bent like aluminum.

It made quite the large boom!

But it was … oh so satisfying.

After she drove over the bridge to the little island in the industrial section of the city, she realized they were attempting to raise it. She only hit the gas pedal harder.

Landing on the opposite side after the impromptu jump, she did a few spins before rear-ending the building on the mainland. The factory was on an island in the middle of the industrial bay. She was so dizzy when she fell out of the car to run over to the edge of the water.

The Joker, somehow finding clothes since she left him, was standing on the opposite side of the water with the most bloodthirsty look she'd ever seen.

It sent shivers up her spine.

Harley gave him the sweetest smile she could as she pulled the lollipop out of her mouth and waved at him.

She then pulled out the small detonator from her belt and pressed the shiny red button.

A large series of explosions went off in all the places she had hidden during her little exodus.

The clown and all his goons—at least the ones left—were left to stand there next to the building as a section went up in flames, just next to them.

Debris came down and fell onto the goon next to the Joker, and he only blinked at it before looking back to Harley.

His expression was priceless.

However, Harley took this time to start jumping up and down and dancing with delight.

 _Fun, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun!_

She was having _way_ too much fun.

Harley could not remember the last time she had that much fun.

As she did a few victory moves, she could see all the men present watching her with a mix of horror and perplexion.

A random goon said something, that she didn't hear, but she then saw the Joker not even bother to look up as he shot him in the head.

Harley only clapped in enjoyment at this. Realizing that the small group was too far away for bullets to reach, so she did the only logical thing she could think of.

She shouted a thank you for the lovely time before blowing the clown a kiss.

She didn't wait to see the look on his face as climbed back into the car and drove away. Making sure to put as many dings into the paint as she whipped around the corners, she blared the radio as she made the tires screech all over the roads, sucking on her lollipop with delight.

Now, what to do next …

 _You were heading to out to pick something up at the store …_

Oh yeah.

A few maimed police officers, a pair of dead bikers, box of fireworks, a can of kerosene, a book of matches, a stuffed lion and a tube of lipstick later …

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"A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you." ― Elbert Hubbard

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Ring. Ring. Ring. Rin—!

Click.

"Hi there!"

Pause.

"I'm looking for Cat—who's this?"

Pause.

"Not Cat."

"Hm … oh! Leni?! Is that you?"

"... Aunt Harley?"

Squeal.

"It is you, isn't it?"

Groan.

"… who else would answer this phone?"

"I knew it! How's it been?"

" _I'm_ fine."

Long pause.

"So … where's Cat?"

Longer pause.

"Busy."

"You know, she's been busy a while—"

"I'm aware. What do you need, Aunt Harley?"

Nervous laugh.

" … I may need a ride."

Pause.

"Ivy can't come?"

Pout.

"I already tried Ivy … I even said please … I didn't get an answer ..."

Longer pause.

"Does this have anything to do with why you've been missing for the last few days?"

" … who says I was missing?"

"Ms. Big-Shot called."

Squeak!

Pause.

"Oh … what did she want?"

Sigh.

"Well, she wanted what you neglected to steal from that vault the other day."

"Shit—I'm in big trouble …"

"No, I took care of it."

"Really? All by your lonesome?"

Groan.

"Are you going to give me an address? Where are you? And you're welcome, by the way."

"Oh, you're coming for me?"

"I told you, Cat's busy. You're just going to have to deal with me."

Giggle.

"Oh, you are just too much. Has anyone ever told you how awesome you are?"

Sigh.

"The address?"

"Oh yeah … just follow the sirens."

Groan.

"Who's supposed to be the _adult_ here?"

"Well, certainly not me …"

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Oh, and Leni?"

Silence.

"Could you stop and pick me up a me a few things on your way?"

"Like what?"

"A change of clothes, my special makeup kit and … Wait, scratch that—actually if you can just find Monty. Tell him I sent you to pick up the car. You did pass your driver's test, right?"

Pause.

"… do I even want to know? And yes, I passed that a year ago. You asked me that the last time I came to get you."

"Oh, I did? But that's great! Oh—you also might wanna wear your "riding clothes" if you know what I mean, honey."

Long pause.

"… we're getting rid of another body, aren't we?"

Anxious laugh.

"No! Never …! Well, that last time I didn't plan on hurting that guy … he was just so handsy … I already got rid of the bodies this time! I just need a ride, I promise. But … "

"There it is—But _what_?"

"Now that you mention it, I could use a little help … with something …"

"And that would be?"

"You don't even have to break the law—I just need you to pick up something from the store. You don't even need to be an adult to get one … at least, last time I checked you didn't …"

"Why do I have a nagging feeling this is going to be bad on my end?"

"Please Leni? I'll buy you another motorcycle …"

Chuckle.

"You mean in addition to the other five you gave me?"

"Oh, that's right—want a car instead?"

Pause.

" … I promise we'll get smoothies afterwards."

Silence.

"Wow, tough crowd …"

"I'll settle for _what_ it is that I'm getting before I answer."

"Okay, okay …"

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"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind." – Bernard M. Baruch

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Harley placed her hands on her hips with a smile.

"You didn't wear your outfit!" the blonde teased.

The girl in front of her did not look thrilled, not in anyway.

As the teenager got out of the little red sportscar, it was hard to tell that she was only seventeen years old. Less than a year until she was legally an adult, and she already had the look of someone three times her age. Her stoic expression was marred by the perpetual scowl that she held in her eyes. It was clear that she was not happy about being in a dank ally at daybreak.

The only thing that indicated her age was her choice in wardrobe.

Her black leather booties were clunky, although they made little to no noise as she walked very gracefully. She was already tall for her age, and the height of the heels made it even better. Her long shapely legs were adorned with opaque black stockings that had a pattern towards the top that gave the illusion they were attached with a garterbelt. Her tight, purple suede skater skirt was positioned around her waist, that had always been too tight and shapely for someone her age.

From beneath the shorter leather motorcycle jacket, a high necked velvet crop top covered her less than modest chest, but was probably sleeveless underneath. Her purple satin choker was adorned with a black "H" and only made her neck look longer. Her pale skin was even paler with the depravation of sunlight, and the addition of bold plum lipstick and black eyeliner. Her long black curls fell over her shoulders in a thick veil, the entire ensemble completed with a newspaper hat to match her skirt in color.

 _Well, she was always the snazzy dresser …_

As she closed the driver's door, she pulled out a duffle bag and put it over her shoulder. She was much too lightly dressed for the weather, her skirt barely covering what was necessary. The girl was cautiously scanning the environment for dangers.

 _Smart cookie …_

Shuffling over to Harley, the girl looked over the woman who was standing in the middle of the dark alley, brow wrinkling at Harley's half-naked form with concern.

"Where are your clothes?" was the first thing she asked, crossing her arms over her chest, wrapping her leather jacket around herself closer.

Although the girl was obviously cold, as the early spring morning still made her breath somewhat visible, it seemed that the blonde in front of her was perfectly content.

Harley beamed and extended her arms wide. "Leni!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around the girl in a big hug. She held on for a few seconds and rocked her back and forth. Although there was no response from the girl to hug, Harley gave her an additional squeeze before releasing her. "Look at you! Where's your riding outfit?"

The teenager gave her a knowing glare. The "riding outfit" she was referring to included a leather jumpsuit and mask. "You said I wouldn't be doing anything illegal," she muttered.

"And you won't," Harley assured. "I just need a ride."

The teenager gave Harley the duffle bag. "Here."

The blonde squealed with delight when she opened the bag and there was a fresh set of clothes inside. Harley didn't even bother to wait before she pulled out the underwear to slip into. Although they were in a dark alley, they were also in one of the most abandoned sections of town. The brunette girl in front of her turned away to give the older woman a small amount of privacy, although she offered no indication that she was surprised at the blonde's actions.

It was Harley Quinn, after all.

As she took off the butchered pajama shirt she had stolen, Harley quickly dressed herself in a simple pair of black panties and a bra. She wasn't too worried about thrills at the moment. As she slipped the stockings over her feet, she was more worried about the marks all over her legs. The red bodycon skirt came up to her waist, only leaving a small amount of skin where the blue croptop took over. Over the entire thing, she slipped a leather dress coat, making sure to fasten it before she slipped into the black pumps and pull her hair back with without a bow.

Harley felt eyes on her as she pulled her hair back. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" her ride asked, leaning her backside against the hood to almost sit on it.

She had the tone that she already knew.

 _Knowing her, she does …_

Smiling, Harley pulled out a compact mirror from the duffle as she checked her make up. "Who says anything happened?"

The girl rolled her eyes. "We're playing that game? Really, Aunt Harley?"

Harley remained quiet as she started putting makeup on her eyes. "No games today, sweetie …" she said, not looking away from the mirror.

 _At least not with her …_

"I just need a ride home," Harley started.

The girl's shoulders shook with her heavy sigh. "Okay, that's it," she exclaimed, going over to the car. She pulled a bag out of the back seat, and from it she took out her phone. As she pressed buttons on the screen, she came over before handing it to the blonde in front of her. "I know you're in trouble. Explain this."

Harley took the devise from her, and saw a video playing on the screen. It was a black and white security camera footage, and it was of her.

She was standing on a bank counter, her two babies besides her growling at a crowd.

Oh shit.

Thankfully, it was impossible to make out the man she was fighting with from this footage. The only thing saving her from trouble was the anonymity of her attacker.

"Where did you get this?" Harley asked almost seriously.

The girl in front of her cocked her head to the side. "The bank," she answered, both of them knowing which bank they were talking about. "You were lucky that I got a hold of it before the police got there."

Harley watched the images of the past play in front of her. She was grim as she watched the way she started flipping around the room.

"So you got what _she_ wanted?" she asked, changing the subject.

Back to business. There had been a reason Harley had gone to the bank that morning; she had been sent. Her oh so generous "handler" kept her on a shorter leash than she first proposed.

Harley gave the phone back.

The girl nodded in response to the question. "Yeah, dropped it off really quickly. I've been covering for Cat resently," she said as she took the phone back. "Miss Big-Shot doesn't even know it was me—I did it as Cat."

Harley closed her eyes for a moment and sighed internally. Cat had been "busy" for quite a while. It made Harley wonder what was wrong with Cat, but also concerned for the girl in front of her that referred to her as an aunt. The girl was a sufficient substitute for Cat, but she wasn't even an adult yet.

Besides, there was really no substitute for the original.

"Good," Harley beamed, never showing a sign of worry. She put the mirror back in the bag and picked it up. She began to move for the car, but she was stopped by the figure in front of her blocking her path. Harley looked at her with an innocent smile. "Yeah?"

The brunette teenager held up her hand. "I'm not taking you anywhere until you give me an explanation," she insisted, sounding like a scolding parent. "Where were you the last few days?"

Harley looked up innocently. "No where …"

The response was a scowl. "Well, you certainly weren't home," she responded. Harley attempted to look surprised, but then she continued. "Monty told me what happened."

Oh crap.

"He did?"

"Yes he did. He also told me _who_ happened."

She fiddled with her phone, pulling up another video. This one was of a woman news caster, standing next to the Gotham bay. Although she looked out of place on the cold docks, she was happily pointing out the car that was being fished out of the bay by the nearby crane. The purple metal had been charred and flamebroiled.

Harley knew, since she had the luxury of doing it.

 _Oh, that had been so much fun …_

It had only been filmed maybe moments ago, the first rays of light over the horizon. "Aunt Harley, what did he do?" the girl demanded.

Harley only smiled. "He who?"

Another eye roll. "He who? The Joker! The guy who dragged you off the other day—or did you just forget that part?"

 _Yeah, we're in trouble …_

"The Joker is seriously trouble, Harley," the girl warned, concern in her voice. "Don't get me wrong, putting the bikers in the car was a good cover, and they'll never trace it back to you."

"Oh you think?"

"That's not the point, Harls. What did he do to you, the Joker? He drags you off from the bank, and you're gone for almost five days! Now you show up like nothing happened, and the car that kidnapped you is in the river!"

This really was looking worse and worse.

"What … _happened_?" was the next demand.

Harley took in a sigh. "Well, you know, just a few negotiations …"

"Harley!"

The blonde laughed nervously. "Yes?"

"The girls at the club are chomping at the bit, and your boys are turning the city around looking for you!" the teenager scolded. "The least you can do is give me an honest answer. Did he hurt you or not? If you don't tell me, I'm going to tell both Cat and Ivy about this."

Crap. She really didn't need them knowing about this little episode.

Harley sighed in resignation. "Okay, okay …" she started. "I'll tell you the truth, but not here, okay?"

The girl nodded. "Good," she replied, digging around in her bag some more. "Because do you have any idea how much you get stared at when you get one of these? I swear, this little old lady looked like she was going to drag be off to the side and beat me." She took out a small package to hand it to Harley. It was the size of a crackerjack box, and wrapped in a paper bag. "And I got you more than one, so you'd better be grateful."

Harley beamed a smile and hugged her again. "You are such a good girl, Leni."

The teenager brushed her off. "Yeah, yeah," shrugging out of the hug. She'd never been much of a hugger. "Someone has to be the adult."

Harley stuffed the package into her bag, giggling playfully. "But you're so good at it …"

Looking her in the eye, the teenager became serious. "Now, I need you to answer this question honestly. Are you going to use that for its intended purpose?"

 _Shit._

 _Crap._

 _Damn._

 _F**k!_

How was she supposed to answer that? There was no way she could lie. He girl in front of her always knew when someone was lying; it was her superpower.

Harley paused, and only smiled while biting her lip. "Yes … ?"

Wide-eyed, there was a moment of silence. It almost looked like the younger girl had swallowed her tongue. Up until that point, Harley had just been happy that the younger girl did not ask questions, seeing as she had asked her to do more dangerous and deadly things than that. It made sense now that the girl thought Harley may have some weird alternate reason for the item she purchased.

But _this_ was not something Harley's ride home was prepared for.

"Yes?" she echoed. "What do you mean, yes? The most notorious criminal kidnaps you for five days, and now you tell me that you need a pre—oh my God! You … did … _not_!"

Harley could feel her cheeks burning, as she laughed nervously. "I … did …"

Putting her hands to her face, the brunette rubbed her eyes. "Oh no, oh no …" she muttered. "Not you too …"

 _Too?_

Someone else had been having sex with the Joker for five days?

 _You mean, besides us?_

"And of all people, really?" the teenager begged incredulously. "Couldn't you have picked someone a little less …?"

 _Steamy?_

 _Smexy?_

"Psychopathic?" the girl finished. "Don't you have enough to deal with with all those people already in your head?"

Harley shrugged. "They aren't that bad …"

The teenager took Harley by the shoulders to look her in the eye. "Please, Aunt Harley, be honest with me—did the Joker knock you up?"

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(Author's Note: There is a specific reason for this new character I introduced. There is also a reason I didn't give you her full name or identity. She is going to be important to this story. She is also not an original character. I gave plenty of hints about who she is, and with time her name and origins will be revealed.

I also mentioned two other characters that are going to show up, if not within the next chapter, the chapter after. Their identities are a little less surprising. What is Harley Quinn without her two besties, her fellow Sirens? Both Poison Ivy and Catwoman are going to have essential parts in the story too, not just window dressing.

And as for our unnamed character above, I may give spoilers to anyone who can guess her identity; say ... the answer to that last question I left hanging ... eh eh eh.)

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	5. Chapter 5

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Pygmalion

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Chapter 5

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"Don't walk in front of me… I may not follow

Don't walk behind me… I may not lead

Walk beside me… just be my friend" ― Albert Camus

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"Wait right there, Ms. Quinn."

Huff.

"Wh-at … ? I thought you said I could leave …"

Glare.

"I am not stopping you. However, there are a few more things you need to know."

"Oh, and what might those things be, pray tell?"

Shuffle.

"You are not the only player in this game."

Giggle.

"No?"

Pause.

"There are a few others out there that will be … your peers."

Laugh.

"Don't you have any faith in me?"

Pause.

Glare.

"Their circumstances are different than yours, but if and when they can be of assistance, I insist you go to them. Like I said before, we have no formal agreement."

Giggle.

"I know, I remember—no face-to-face contact, hm?"

"Correct."

Pause.

"You gonna tell me who these new friends of mine are? How do I know I'll like them or not?"

"You _will_ like them, I can assure you."

"I will?"

"Indeed."

"And you know this … how?"

"Because you have already met."

Pause.

Laugh.

"Really?"

"They are old friends of yours."

Pause.

"I only have so many friends."

"Then it's a good thing that I found the only ones you have."

Shuffle.

"I am sure you are familiar with Ms. Kyle and Dr. Isley? Of course, how could you forget your own foster sisters—or at least, Dr. Quinzel's?"

Laugh.

"Well played, boss lady, well played."

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"Common sense and a sense of humor are the same thing, moving at different speeds. A sense of humor is just common sense, dancing." – Clive James

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"Four hours?"

 _Yeah, we are most definitely in trouble._

 _Like we weren't in trouble before?_

As their little red sports car pulled up to a red light, Harley winced, flashing a smile at the figure sitting next to her in the car. The teenager beside her looked at her from the passenger's seat with wide lilac eyes, as if the blonde had just suddenly grown another head.

Or two.

"Four _hours?"_ The younger girl looked up and down Harley's figure as if to inspect it. "How are you … even … sitting up straight?" was her horror-filled question.

 _Very carefully …_

Harley grinned meekly, baring her teeth with the smile. Between her teeth was another lollipop; it wasn't nearly as good as the last one, but for the strangest reason Harley had been craving sweets all morning. Unfortunately, the small one in the glove compartment had been her only solution to the problem. As Harley gripped the steering wheel, she looked like she was trying to shrink away from the situation.

Sadly, that was impossible.

 _We have bigger fish to fry …_

After Harley had answered a series of embarrassing questions, the brunette teenager that had arrived to transport her home demanded that Harley take the driver's seat and proceed to drive. On threat of telling a great number of people of her recent "activities", the girl insisted that Harley drive straight to Beaudelaire's Greenhouse.

As in, not home.

Although she put up a fuss and whined that she wanted to see her babies, Harley was quelled after a brief call to Freddy to see if her puppies were doing well. Once she heard a few assuring cackles on the other end of the line, Harley put up no more of a protest.

Besides, she was not going to object to visiting an old friend.

 _We haven't seen Ivy in such a long time …_

 _Not since we blew up that pharmaceutical plant a few months ago …_

 _Did we ever find out the reason behind that … ?_

 _That was closer to a year ago …_

Although Harley did not object to visiting the infamous mistress of greenery, she was still a little curious as to why they weren't going home—to Harley's home at least.

Well, it was more like a hideout, but she wasn't about to split hairs …

But the blonde kept silent when she realized the anger of her companion. Sadly, she didn't think it was a good idea to ask too many questions—it would probably get her into more trouble. Once Harley looked over the seventeen year old a little bit more, it was obvious that the brunette was not a happy camper.

Upon closer inspection Harley could detect bags under her eyes.

In other words, she was probably very, very tired. The blonde didn't know what her friend had been up to before she called, but seeing as it was still rather early in the morning, Harley would have to guess that it was a long night for her.

 _Studying too hard, as usual._

 _If that's what you want to call it …_

And if there was one thing that Harley knew not to do, it was attempt to poke an angry, sleepy tiger.

A purple tiger, that was.

Once the vehicle's engine started, and the pair of them were en route, the younger girl pulled out her own bag and started changing her clothes right there in the car. Well, she wasn't changing them entirely, more like she was exchanging the outer layers with a few pieces that were a little less casual. Harley didn't question this decision, seeing as they were going to Beaudelaire's.

The younger girl couldn't be caught in street clothes at a villain's widely known residence.

And the best place to change was in a place that was moving.

No wonder she demanded that Harley drive.

The girl moved with the swiftness of someone who had grown up in a moving vehicle, quickly removing her shoes, jacket and skirt. What was left was her black crop top, a pair of high-waisted mini shorts that were hidden beneath her skirt, and her stockings. She quickly stuffed her discarded clothes inside the bag while she started putting on the other things.

As she buckled the steel-boned black corset up her stomach, she made sure to pull it tight. The vintage piece was cumbersome, but knowing the brunette it was bound to have an alternate purpose than for style.

 _Gotta be bulletproof._

Once she adjusted the corset's straps, she next pulled out a wide elastic band that she also encircled around her waist. This didn't seem to have much of a purpose, but soon Harley saw her stuffing throwing knives into the hidden pockets around her ribs. She even loaded a tiny pistol before tucking it in the pocket at the base of her spine. Around her hips she donned a leather harness equipped with pockets that fastened to her thighs. They were filled with a few more pieces of glinting metal, that Harley could only assume were either ammo or more pointy objects.

With those layers in place, she took out a rather fabulous velvet coat, the indigo purple fabric shimmering as she pulled it over her shoulders and buckled the belt around her waist. The coat was thicker, and looked more like a dress than anything else, coming down past the pockets around her thighs to keep them hidden. Also, the billowing at her back hid all the secret items at her waist as well.

Once her clothes were in place, she pulled on a pair of thigh-high boots that matched the coat's color almost perfectly. Of course, knowing her, the items were probably cut from the same cloth—literally.

The girl had Cat to thank for that.

 _Having a fashion designer for a roommate is so helpful …_

Before she pulled on a pair of leather gloves, the teenager pulled out two very interesting pieces; a mask and a wig.

The wig was long and thick, but very high quality. If Harley had to say that there was anything strange about it, it was that its color was almost identical to her coat and boots. The girl attached it to her head by using her own hair to weave into the base. Seeing as there was always a chance of it falling off, she secured it fast to lower those chances.

Her mask, that was also secured to the wig, was the most recognizable thing about the girl's uniform—it was the only thing she carried over to each outfit, seeing as she went through so many. It wasn't the indigo purple color of the leather that conformed to her jaw and cheeks, but the distinctive points emerging from her temples formed from the v-shape cut out at her forehead. If the points weren't so stiff, they might have been mistaken as ears.

Of course, Harley's companion was _not_ attempting to look like an animal of any kind.

During the entire transformation, Harley did not speak as she really didn't want to be scolded again. She already got enough of that as soon as she answered the younger girl's really big question. But as soon as her mask was in place, and she was adjusting the string on her compact crossbow, she finally spoke up.

And her first question was concerning Harley banging a certain infamous clown.

Somehow, before she even realized it, Harley blurted out a lot of information that she really, really didn't want to reveal.

Mainly the longest "banging" session she went into in the last five days.

As soon as the question emerged about her body's state, Harley had to admit that she really didn't _know_ how she was sitting up straight.

 _That's pathetic._

 _How aren't we curled up in a corner?_

 _Our lady bits were a little more than stimulated …_

Harley bit her lip nervously. "Well …" she started, trying to figure out what to say to her question. The sensations over the last few days were rushing back into her extremities, and she was trying to suppress it. She let out a shiver. "It went really slowly …"

As she answered, Harley pulled into the historically Gothic section of the city where the buildings were probably about as old as the city. The growling gray sky and musty rain only added to the spooky atmosphere.

It was one of the reasons Harley didn't come by more often.

The Victorian mansions were highlighted by all the stained glass and curvy ironwork, as well as luxurious sconces that passed themselves off as street lamps. It was also one of the greenest parts of the city, with flowers and trees peppering the brick sidewalks and stone walls around the section's main attraction; the park. It was this attraction that they turned into, their destination in the center of the intricate maze of twisted trees.

While they drove through the greenery, the girl besides Harley blinked at her response. Horror was gone, and replaced with curiosity. "You mean, like … that Tantric stuff?"

Harley paused.

 _Huh?_

 _Where'd that come from?_

 _How come she knows about that stuff?_

"Um … well, I guess if you wanna call it that … " She looked over her companion. "How do you, uh, know about that … ?"

The younger girl caught onto her surprise, and only rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh. "I'm seventeen, Aunt Harley—not dead. There are girls my age with three kids," the brunette deadpanned, tucking her crossbow into the bag around her right thigh.

 _Very true …_

"Yeah, but _you_ don't," Harley responded. At least she hoped her little Leni was still pure—for now. "I thought you didn't have any experience in that area."

"I don't," she confirmed like it was the most obvious fact. "Like I have time for that when I have to look after you three? Besides, guys are jerks most of the time. You were the one that told me that."

 _Oh yeah, I did …_

 _Harleen did, not you ..._

 _Like that really matters right now ... ?_

"And who the hell would I screw, eh?" the younger female added with a small chuckle. "Like we're always coming across guys my age?"

 _She has a point._

 _All of our "friends" are **way** too old for Leni … _

Harley rocked her head from side to side with her confirmation answer. "Well, yeah, I guess …"

As towering leaded glass came into view on the horizon, there was a small pause.

It was broken by the brunette, "So how the hell did you wind up losing your virginity to the Joker?" she asked as she crossed her arms over her chest.

 _Very easily …_

Harley inwardly winced, as her insides clenched.

She _really_ wished that the brunette had not known ... that fact.

That fact was the source of irritation the last few days. Originally it had been the reason as to why she was so conflicted, but now it was the source of constant irritation.

Physically and mentally.

Like popping a cork on a heavily backed up dam, it seemed that all the pent up sexual frustration over the last twenty seven years of her life just came spilling out. And it spilled out into that drug and alcohol fueled romp that left Harley both ecstatic and ashamed. Harley didn't remember ever stopping to think over the past few days. All her common sense went out the window and was replaced with pure instinct.

The instinctual side of herself that saw the Joker as the delicious piece of forbidden rotten fruit he was, and indulged on it until she was thoroughly, completely sick.

Yeah, they f**ked like bunnies.

 _Sloshed bunnies._

Harley's insides were still sore, and she had to admit that her muscles were still spasming every now and then. The feeling of elation in her post-coital bliss was overwhelmed by the sickening hollowness in her belly of humiliation and shame.

 _You got kidnapped by a rival gang boss, and you proceed to bang him for approximately one business week._

 _Yeah, real professional._

Some crime boss she turned out to be.

So, when Harley pulled the car to a stop and the engine turned off, she put her head to the wheel in a very pathetic sob. "I don't know …" she whined.

Although she couldn't see the girl beside her, Harley heard her give out a concerned grumble. "Okay, okay," she relinquished. "I won't ask anymore."

Harley didn't remove her head from the steering wheel. "Thank you," she muttered into the leather.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound disrupting the awkwardness was the patterning of the rain against the car roof and hood. The teenager finally made an odd clicking sound with her lips, almost like a hiss of pain.

"So … how was it?"

The blonde only turned her head, keeping it against the wheel as she looked at her. "Huh?"

Blinking with curiosity, the younger female actually looked amused. "The sex. How was it?"

 _Wonderful._

 _Awful._

 _Wonderfully awful._

"Great …" Harley finally whined as she sat up straight, exaggeratedly rubbing her reddened cheeks.

"Well, after five days without protection, I would hope it felt good," the brunette laughed, reaching into the back seat to retrieve Harley's bag. She took out the ominous package that she had purchased for the blonde before stuffing it into her own bag. "You do know that you'll have to wait a few days to take these things right?"

Harley nodded. "I'm aware."

"You know, the chances of you conceiving after all that activity is … really slim," the girl added as she pulled the bag over her shoulder.

 _That's what we're counting on …_

"I just wanted to be sure."

"I know it's rather late for this, but couldn't you have just taken that morning after pill?"

Harley paused, her eyes widening.

 _Why didn't we think of that?_

"Or are you seriously considering keeping the _Joker's_ baby?"

Harley groaned. Why did she have to word it that way? She had been trying to avoid that word—forbidding it from her mind. The topic was simply something that she really, really did not even want to consider for her future.

A crime boss on the government's leash with the most notorious gang leader in the city as her baby daddy?

For some odd reason, the thought of a little ball of life forming inside of her made her almost sick to her stomach.

 _Which is why you promptly shot that asshole!_

She didn't even know the clown for a full week, and now there was a possibility of _never_ getting rid of him.

 _And how exactly did that stop you from f**king him?_

 _If you talk the talk, you gotta walk the walk …_

 _**SHUT. THE. HELL. UP!**_

Harley did not have the patience for the voices in her head at that moment.

It had already been a very eventful morning.

Instead of answering the girl's question, Harley gasped the door handle. "Can we discuss this _after_ I take the dumb test?"

Her companion stopped grinning, but nodded her reply. As Harley walked out into the rain and closed the door, she came around to the other side and gave her masked companion the keys. As they climbed the stairs towards the towering glass structure, Harley hugged her coat closer to herself against the cold.

Despite the place being a greenhouse, it always seemed colder the closer Harley got to it.

"Why are we here, again?" Harley finally asked, keeping pace with the younger girl as they walked over the cobblestone. "I really don't want to have to talk to Ivy."

The younger girl's tone became serious again.

"You just escaped from the Joker, and you are potentially carrying his kid," she said incredulously. "Not to mention you torched his car and threw it in the bay."

 _And we blew up half his house …_

"The last thing we need is you going home," she said as they came up to the door. "We can't afford to let him find you there."

 _Oh yeah, good point._

At the top of a dais of steps was the dauntingly tall pair of doors. The twisted steel bars were highlighted by the jade glass, however it still had the aura of a cage for a bird than anything else. The only thing preventing anyone from potentially breaking the glass and opening the door were all the terribly large plants that emerged from the ground and surrounded the passageway like police tape.

As the two approached, the thick vines came to life and began to hover around them menacingly, daring them to touch the door.

Instead of going over to the door, the younger girl went over to the engraved steel sign that read "Beaudelaire's Greenhouse" in bold italic vines for words, and swung it open on a set of hidden hinges like a door. The contraption underneath looked like something out of the Edwardian era, with more mechanical pieces than electrical ones. She pressed the button next to the round grate, and a dull ring was heard in the background.

Holding down the button, the younger girl spoke gently into the grate, "Ivy, I know you can't come out, but could you let us in?"

There was a pause for several moments, and Harley took the time to look around. It was then that she noticed something strange about the scene; something had been added.

A few somethings had been added.

The ground was littered with a great deal of flowers, all individually cut and wrapped with ribbon. There had to be dozens of them. They had obviously been left there on purpose, each bunch stacked on top of one another. The closer the bunches were to the door, the more they were withered and rotted. The newer bunches that were farther away were actually identifiable.

 _How strange …_

Why was someone leaving flowers for Ivy?

And why was Ivy just letting them out there to rot away?

 _Is she sick or something?_

Harley recognized many of them; she hadn't been a friend of Ivy's for as long as she was for nothing.

The bunches were sectioned in two ways, either a singular flower, or a few bunched together. Although, in the bunches of several, each flower was a diferent bloom. The older ones that she could identify were by themselves. The round indigo one was a morning glory, and then the almost furry looking red one was a gillyflower. Some pure white Indian jasmine, and even a dwarf sunflower. A purple heliotrope, a pink peony, and even yellow tulip. Those were almost all gone from rot.

The newer ones were in clusters. There were peach blossoms paired together with yellow chrysanthemums, as well as a few pink carnations clustered with white camellias and a bright yellow jonquil. There were lots of citron flowers, as well as primroses. There were even a few flowers that she noticed were more prominent, but that was because they were black; she'd have to look that one up later.

Absently, Harley had a sinking feeling.

This seemed a little too odd.

Then, Harley thought about what her companion had said. "Why can't she come out?" she suddenly asked with concern.

Her question was left unanswered as the receiver grumbled a response to the first question.

"Helena?" came the surprised yet seductive voice of Poison Ivy. "Is that you?"

The girl in question smiled. "Huntress right now, Ivy," she corrected. "Got Harley with me."

There was a pause from the grumbling of the mechanics in the device. "Oh good, you found her."

Wait, Ivy knew she was missing too?

Helena glanced over to the older woman with a meek smile. "I asked around when I realized you were missing," she whispered so the third party couldn't hear. She then turned into the receiver again. "Yeah, she actually found me—which is why we need you to let us in, okay?"

All that was heard was static for a few seconds, and there was no response from the mistress of nature.

Finally, Helena spoke up again. "She needs to hide here for a few days, Ivy," she said with an interesting tone in her voice. " … Harley's gotten herself in serious trouble. I wouldn't ask, but we really have no where else to go."

"Who else knows you two are here?"

"No one."

There was a sigh from the other end. "Okay, come in."

Helena smiled. "Thank you so much Ivy."

As Huntress shut the panel back onto the receiver, the plants wrapped around the door paused in movement for a few seconds. There was a noise from inside, that sounded like the russling of leaves and branches, before the vines virtually relaxed and peeled off to doors.

Harley brow raised.

Helena didn't answer her—Harley had the feeling that there was something going on; there was a secret looming about and Harley was not in the loop.

 _How rude._

 _Like you're reliable to keep secrets?_

 _Touche._

"Is there something going on?" Harley finally asked.

Helena paused, not looking at the blonde as she grasped the door handle. "Let's just say, there's more than one reason I changed."

 _What the hell does that mean?_

* * *

HxJ

JxH

* * *

"For there is no friend like a sister in calm or stormy weather; To cheer one on the tedious way, to fetch one if one goes astray, to lift one if one totters down, to strengthen whilst one stands." – Christina Rossetti

* * *

HxJ

JxH

* * *

"Why are you crying?"

Hiccup!

Sob.

"… I'm not crying."

Silence.

"Yes you are."

"Ivy! Leave her alone."

"I was just trying to see if she was all right. She won't come out of the closet."

Pause.

Hiccup!

"You know, you can't stay in there all day."

"… yes I can!"

"Ivy …"

Smile.

"She's such a tiny little thing …"

"She can also hear you."

"Go away!"

"We don't get a sister every day, Cat … and she's been in there for two days. I'm sure she's really hungry."

Sigh.

"Hey there … look, we'll go away, but can you at least tell us that you're all right?"

Sob.

" … not okay."

"Not okay? Awe, why not?"

Hiccup!

Sob.

"They killed my mama …"

Long pause.

"What? … who?"

"Yeah, who killed your mom?"

Sob.

"Those scary people."

Pause.

Silence.

Hiccup!

Pause.

"Won't you come out? I'm sure you're really thirsty after all that crying."

Silence.

"Why won't you come out, hm?"

" … you won't call me names?"

Sigh.

"Why would we call you names?"

"Yeah, we won't do that."

Pause.

Click.

Creak …

Gasp.

"No, wait! Come back, we promise not to call you names."

Laugh.

"Your hair is so pretty! It's the color of calla lilies!"

" … what are calla lilies?"

Huff.

"Ignore her—she's always talking about thost dumb plants."

Glare.

Blink.

"You don't think I look funny?"

Pause.

"No, not at all. You're so pretty—why would you ever think that you look funny?"

"... really?"

"She wouldn't lie about that … I wouldn't either."

Sniffle.

"Thank you."

"What's your name?"

Silence.

"My name is Pamela, but I like it when people call me Ivy. This here is Selina."

"They call me Cat."

"So what's your name?"

"… Harleen."

"Hello Harleen. How old are you?"

"... six and a half."

"I'm eight. Cat is the eldest—she's eleven."

Silence.

"Are you still going to stay in there? Aren't you lonely in there all by yourself?"

Silence.

"Okay, if you wanna stay there, it's fine. But we'll both be out here when you come out, all right?"

"… okay …"

Silence.

"… thank you …"

* * *

HxJ

JxH

* * *

"It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them." – Ralph Waldo Emerson

* * *

HxJ

JxH

* * *

It was a good thing that Harley had been to Beaudelaire's before.

Because the average person would not be able to handle it.

Although there was a definite path sprawled out in the jungle of vines and plants inside the steel and glass structure, it did not detract from the clausterphobic sensation that emerged from each leave and pod that surrounded them.

The two figures walked in through the doors, the vines closing up the doorway behind them as they walked through the large foyer, an almost four-way intersection of halls. However, they did not take the right or left hall, and proceeded forward down the metal walkway in front of them. They hovered above a large valley of more greenery, the metal structure becoming more herbacious that anything else. Harley was just grateful that her stilletos didn't fall down into the spaces between the grates.

As they emerged into the larger space, the darkness of the space around them was slowly cleared by the gray light that filtered in throught the decorative glass ceiling. The large space that was used as a main living area was incredibly open, the only thing breaking up the space were the steel pillars sprawled out caculatively to support the tremendously heavy glass ceiling.

Despite the fact that it was a greenhouse, it was rather chilly inside.

 _Was it always this cold in here?_

 _I don't think it was …_

 _It was warmer in here when we were here in **winter** … _

Harley noticed how her shoes clanged against the metal as she walked down the spiral steps, holding herself. "Are you cold too?" she asked.

Helena only glanced over to her. "Try not to bring that up," was the only thing she advised.

"Why not?"

She did not get an answer.

Instead, Helena walked forward through the vines and proceeded to call out, "Ivy!"

There was a few clanging noises coming from a distance in front of them, followed by a crash. There was a muttered curse, before a reply. "Back here!"

Finally honing in on their hostess's location, they rounded the corner as they went into a small annex towards the back.

The first thing Harley noticed was the smoke.

It was coming from all the glass containers sitting on top of bunson burners. There were enough glass beakers, twisted tubes and bubbling substances to make any evil genius jealous. The table of ancient chemistry tools were displayed ever so lovely on the marble table that was held up with legs of living plants. The greens that carpeted the floor created a good cushioning against the cement that was underneath.

At first, it was impossible to see if there was actually anyone in the room, seeing as the glass tower of beakers created a wall.

However, a voice from the other side emerged.

"So, what happened this time?" came the sultry voice of the one known as Poison Ivy.

The redheaded plant mistress emerged from the other side of the table holding a container of purple chemicals in her hand.

Her radiantly kelly green skin was shown off in large quantities from the fact that her shoulders and arms were completely bare. The intricate ivy shapes that had been carved into her skin with a blade only seemed to make her even more radiant, the leaves peppering all over her angular cheeks, long neck and ample chest. The green leather Victorian corset that was fastened so tightly around her hourglass shape only made her large breasts seem more prominent, the appendages practically spilling over the lace ruffles around the top.

The largest piece of cloth on the plant mistress's form was the prominent silk and lace bussle that was secured with a belt around her waist, the skirt fanning out to drag along the floor. The skirt itself was completely open in the front, acting more like a cape for her lower body than anything else. As Ivy took a step forward, she padded across the floor with delicate bare feet, the leaf pattern winding all the way down her body. Her long legs were revealed for the whole world to see, as the only thing she was wearing beneath the corset was a tiny pair of ruffled bloomers, extra lace adorning her around the rear.

Her bright green eyes were shimmering from beneath a pair of lenses attached to the tiny green top hat positioned sophisticatedly on her head. Lace fanned out like feathers to amplify he large coiffure of hair at the back of her skull. Her almost magenta-colored pieces of loose hair came down in ringlets cascaded over her shoulders.

A pair of luscious green lips curved in a very muted yet sincere smile. "Hello Helena," she greeted, then nodded to the blonde. "Harley."

Harley beamed and spread her arms wide to tackle her friend in a hug. "Pammy!" she exclaimed.

The green-skinned woman barely had enough time to put down the chemicals in her hand before Harley bombarted her with a squeeze. Despite the fact that Ivy was older, Harley was slightly taller, even more so that she was wearing heels, and almost smothered her.

Ivy let out a grunt of surprise when the air was pushed out of her. "It's good to see you too, Harley," she said, pulling the blonde away from her. She cupped her face as if to inspect it. "You look well."

Harley bounced up and down on the balls of her feet.

 _It's been too long since we've seen her._

"So do you," Harley beamed in excitement. "You look so well—you're boobs are huge!"

Indeed, they were bigger than the last time they spoke in person.

 _They were smaller than yours last time._

 _Now they're bigger …_

Without any hesitation, Harley grabbed at the front of Ivy's corset for a brief few seconds and squeezed teasingly at the luscious orbs attached to her chest. Ivy blushed at this comment, and she attempted to open her mouth to speak, but Harley just pulled her hands away almost as fast as they'd descended.

"But other than that, you look good," Harley continued. "Why don't you ever come by anymore? I know you're into that off-the-grid thing, but I sent you a good number of letters!"

Ivy smiled almost apologetically, glancing over Harley's shoulder to Helena for a brief second before looking back at her. "I know, I got them," she responded. "I have to apologize for not responding—I have been very busy."

Harley finally released the older woman and looked at the toys that littered the table. "Oh, any big projects?" she inquired, picking up a flask to inhale.

At the perfumed liquid that hit her nose, Harley winced.

 _Obviously another one of her weapons of mass distruction …_

Ivy only shrugged. "Nothing in particular …" she commented.

The redhead raised the lenses from her eyes, resting them on the brim of her hat as she turned to Helena who was standing in the corner. "What's going on? What's this about hiding?"

Huntress let out a sigh. She placed her bag over her neck to fasten it across her body, before she went over to the bare table over to the side and hopped up on it. "Sorry—I couldn't call you," she responded. "This was something that I couldn't say over the phone."

Harley blinked. "You have a phone, Pammy?"

This was news.

If she would have known that, she wouldn't have bothered with those dumb flower shops.

Ivy's brow wrinkled as she looked over to the blonde, completely ignoring the blonde's question. "Does this have anything to do with why you were missing for the last few days?"

 _Whoa, deja vu._

Harley shrugged. "Who says I was—?"

"I told her," Helena cut off promptly. Harley turned around and pouted a frown at her. "You really think I wouldn't tell Ivy you were missing?"

 _One can hope …_

Harley grinned nervously at her old friend when she felt the redhead's eyes on her. "I was … busy …?"

"After being kidnapped by the Joker?" Ivy inquired in disbelief.

 _Oh great, she knows that too …_

Harley began playing with a loose piece of hair hanging around her face. "Well …"

"Oh, just tell her already!" Helena snapped. "She needs to know _why_ you'll be staying here for a few days."

Ivy crossed her hands over her chest, tone serious. "What happened?"

"Uh … ?"

"Were you the one responsible for that explosion this morning?"

 _Uh-oh …_

Harley winced, biting her lip.

However, the teenager in the corner was the one who responded to this. "Explosion?"

Ivy closed her eyes tightly as she rubbed them, going over to a cabinet made of vines. She retrieved one of the only eletronic devices that she owned, a tablet with a green case, and turned it on.

"I was attempting to find information on you today," she said, using her long fingers to touch buttons as she scanned through the pictures.

She padded over to the blonde and handed her the screen. It was a picture of the Gotham skyline, only there was a small mushroom cloud in the corner. And Harley knew for a fact that it was coming from the industrial section.

And not because she'd made the explosion either.

"I found this after some digging—the police are trying to cover it up," Ivy continued. "I assumed that our "employer" was involved, but …"

 _Do we want to know the rest?_

" … I remembered that the industrial section was Joker's territory—and Helena said he kidnapped you."

 _Shit._

Helena whipped her head in the blonde's direction. "You … did … _not_!"

The blonde did her best to smile. "Well, I may have …"

"So you were responsible for the explosion?" Ivy deduced. "What the _hell_ did you blow up?"

"She blew up the Joker's hideout," Helena told her, even though she hadn't been told that.

 _Smart little cookie …_

 _Why did we encourage her to read?_

Harley twiddled her thumbs absently. "Only the garage …" she muttered.

Ivy's eyes were wide with horror and shock. "You—what?" Turning to the blonde, she looked almost like her eyes were ready to pop out of their sockets. "Tell me you didn't."

" _And_ she torched his Lamborghini and sent it sleeping with the fishes," Helena added, arms crossed over her chest.

"The news said that was those bikers—"

"A good cover, but not that good," the teenager cut off, cocking her head to the side. She jumped down off the table to come up to Harley's face. "But I'm pretty sure the owner knows who was driving it off his property."

Harley shrugged, trying to weasel herself away. "How else was I supposed to escape?"

"You could have called me—"

"Girls!" Ivy said, coming between the pair. She physically separated them, glancing between the two of them. "Could you please calm down? And before we do anything else, I need you to clarify something for me."

The two waited for Ivy to continue.

"Harley was kidnapped. By the Joker?"

"Yep."

"And this was … five days ago?"

"Ah-huh."

"But this morning, you escaped, blew up his hideout and then eighty-sixed his car?"

"That pretty much sums it up, yeah …"

"So the first thing you do after all this is come to _me_ … to hide?" she asked in confusion. "For a few days?" She turned to look at Helena. The redhead seemed more worried than anything. "And this was your idea?"

Helena groaned, rubbing her temple. "I know this looks bad, Ivy, but I can assure you he has no idea where she is," she admitted, referring to the blonde. "I really had no other choice—and besides, we really need to hide her for a few days."

Ivy glanced over to the blonde again, as Helena started going through the bag around her shoulders. "Why a few days?" she asked.

With the rustling of paper, Helena revealed the rectangular package to Ivy. Harley felt her stomach twist as her old friend's eyes widened. "She has to take this."

Ivy's expression was one that Harley had never seen before. It was a mix of horror, surprise, terror, and just plain old exhaustion.

 _Oh great, now she knows …_

 _I really don't want to hear this one …_

For several moments, there was an awkward silence as Ivy stared at the tiny rectangular package in Helena's hands.

 _Ivy has left the building …._

Harley waved her hands in front of the redhead's eyes. "Pammy …?"

Then the strangest thing disrupted the silence.

It was a sound that Harley had never heard before, almost like the jangling of metal and glass. It was followed with a low series of chimes, almost like a wind chime without the wind.

Ivy blinked once.

Twice.

Three times.

The redhead snapped back into the present and looked to Helena. "You're serious?"

Huntress nodded.

 _Wait, shouldn't she be asking_ _ **you**_ _that?_

"It's not for sure, though?" Ivy continued.

Another nod. "But a definite possibility."

As the chimes in the background continued, Ivy glanced to the door nervously, before back to the pair in front of her. "I guess this place is as good as any," she concluded, looking deflated.

"Then she can stay?" Helena asked hopefully.

Ivy nodded, glancing towards the chimes again. "It's about time Harley knows anyway," she said, biting her lip.

 _Knows what?_

Before Harley could look to Ivy for a reply, the redhead began walking away. Although Harley just stood there, as soon as Helena started following, she did as well. As Ivy went further into he greenhouse, Harley noticed that it was getting chillier. They finally approached what looked like a wall of vines, that parted like the Red Sea when Ivy touched them.

As the plant mistress entered the secret room, concealed to the outside world, Harley noticed that the noise was coming from inside. When Ivy entered, the noise stopped.

The vines closed on the women once they entered, and when they did, Harley had to pause for a moment.

Immediately, Harley noticed the scent of lavender and vanilla in the room. Ivy went over to the piece of furniture in the corner, formed and shaped completely out of wood and vines. She leaned over it and retrieved something, turning around as she adjusted the form in her arms.

 _So that's what Leni meant earlier …_

The baby must have been one of the most adorable things Harley had ever seen. Only a few months old, at the most, she was swaddled in light pink. Her luscious startlingly blue curls were decorated with matching pink ribbons. Her pudgy little limbs were covered with pale green skin that was almost white. She let out a large toothless laugh, as Ivy rocked her gently.

As Harley circled around, she could see that the baby's eyes were as brightly blue as her hair.

Harley glanced at Helena incredulously. Huntress looked completely unfazed; she had known all along.

 _This would also explain why her boobs are so big …_

Ivy looked up to Harley with a shy smile. "This is Flora," she said simply. She smiled at the baby in her arms and spoke to her with a cooed tone. "Flora, my little blossom, this is Aunt Harley."

There was only one thing that Harley could say, "Where's Daddy?"

Harley was answered by a large crash coming from the entrance of the greenhouse. All three of them looked up with a start.

Ivy frowned. "That … might be him …"

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(Author's Note; Brownie points to anyone who can figure out who Flora's daddy is!

I would like to know what you think of Ivy's style. When I was developing this story, I realized I liked how stylized Harley is (and everyone in the SS universe) and I wanted to do the same with her. If you did not pick up on it, I gave Ivy a steampunk style. I plan on giving all of my characters their own unique clothing styles, because they are just so much more interesting that way.

I tried giving our darling Huntress a vintage goth style. I'm so disappointed not too many people guessed that-maybe I left her a little more vague than I originally thought. For those of you who guessed correctly though, congratulations!

Your assignments for this week; Along with the identity of Flora's daddy, I wish to hear suggestions for the clothing styles of Gotham's Rogue's gallery. I already have a few in mind (because I will be bringing up other villains) but I would like to hear your suggestions.

Once again, thank you for reading. Please review!)


	6. Chapter 6

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Pygmalion

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Chapter 6

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"The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life." – Richard Bach

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"Hello, Helena, my name is Ivy. This here is my friend Harleen."

"Hello there! How old are you, Helena?"

Pause.

"I'm four. How old are you?"

"Oh, you are so cute! I'm fourteen—ten years older than you. Ivy here's sixteen. Anywho—can we call you Leni?"

Pause.

"You two are weird."

Giggle.

"Harls!"

"She's not wrong. So Leni, why are you here?"

Shrug.

"Don't know. That lady told me it's safe with you."

"Cat? She said that it's safe with us?"

"Yeah. Who's Cat? She said her name was Selina."

"It is—Cat's real name is Selina. She likes it when we call her Cat though. Did she say anything else before she left you with us?"

Pause.

"That she was gonna go do something. She talked about a policeman."

Awkward stare.

"Did she say _why_ she was gonna go talk to the policeman?"

"She's gonna tell him who killed my mama and papa."

Gasp.

Longer pause.

"Your … parents are dead, Leni?"

Nod.

"Yep. That man shot them. That was yesterday."

Pause.

"What man?"

"He came into our house. I didn't know his name. He's dead now."

Longer pause.

"And you Leni … aren't you sad?"

Shrug.

"Why would I be sad?"

"You're mama and papa … you'll never see them again. That would even make grown-ups sad."

Head shake.

"No, I'm not sad. They're dead—no one can hurt them anymore."

Pause.

"That's a very … grown up thing to say."

"You aren't sad at _all_?"

"No—they weren't my real mama and papa anyway."

Silence.

"How … how do you know that? Did they tell you?"

Head shake.

"No. I just know."

"You just … know?"

Nod.

"How do you know?"

Shrug.

"Don't know. Just do."

Awkward pause.

"That's a … very interesting ability, Helena."

"What other kind of things do you know? Oh! Can you hear what I'm thinking?"

Head shake.

"No. That's weird."

Glance.

"... She's not wrong, Harls."

"Yeah yeah—so Leni, do you know who your real mama and papa are?"

Head shake.

"No. Selina says she'll tell me when I'm older. But I'm gonna stay with her now."

"Oh? Why with us?"

Shrug. "Selina says she and I are related."

Gasp.

Shoulder pat.

"Ivy, you remember that time … ?"

"You don't have to whisper Harls—Helena can still hear you. And yes, I remember."

"So, you think she's ever gonna tell us?"

"Probably not."

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"Irony is a clear consciousness of an eternal agility, of the infinitely abundant chaos." – Karl Wilhelm Friedrich Schlegel

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The shrill shrieks of the carnivorous plants that occupied Ivy's home filled the air, loudly letting their mistress know that not only was Poison Ivy under attack, but the vines themselves were at present under a tremendous amount of strain. Harley glanced around with weary anticipation as she saw the greenery come to life, the walls surrounding them surging with energy and shaking as though caught in a breeze.

The shrubs were obviously disturbed.

Ivy's home alarm and defense had both gone off, meaning that there was definitely a threat.

Normally, if someone heard a very large and dangerous sounding crash coming from the other side of their home, they would head in the opposite direction. And considering that Ivy was holding a baby that she had just announced to be her own flesh and blood (or whatever Ivy was made of these days), Harley would have thought her safety was first priority.

However, the redheaded plant mistress simply readjusted the infant in her arms as she turned to the indigo-wigged figure standing in the corner with a questioning look.

"Is it him?" she asked, her tone very serious.

Harley glanced over to the other member of their "merry" party. The Huntress had become defensive when hearing the crash, no longer relaxed as before. Instead of leaning against the wall, she was standing up straight with her eyes focused in the direction of the noise that had disturbed the silence. For a few moments, the lilac-eyed teenager just stood there staring out into space. There was no way she was looking at anything in front of her, considering all that was in front of her was a wall of vines.

There was an awkward silence.

 _What the hell … ?_

 _Shut up! She's doing her thing!_

 _Oh …_

 _Right … forgot about that._

Helena suddenly snapped out of her trance, a shiver overcoming her form like she was exposed to electricity. As the hiss left her teeth, she dropped the duffel bag that was over her shoulder. Arms firmly resting on her sides, her fingers opened and closed at the air surrounding her hands, almost expectantly.

She was readying herself for a battle.

 _Ooooh! Time for some fun!_

The brunette looked at Ivy, and Harley saw those lilac eyes of hers melt away. They were replaced with a pair of bright silver irises that seemed to radiate with some kind of kinetic energy that made her eyes glisten.

It was an unearthly presence, but it calmed Harley—she always thought that those eyes were so pretty when they did that.

 _Pretty but deadly._

The younger girl finally broke the silence. "No," was the only thing she said to Ivy.

Ivy visibly relaxed, letting out a long exhale. Whomever she had been expecting, the redhead obviously did not want to host the person in her home.

 _Didn't she say that it might have been Flora's daddy?_

 _Wait … does that mean she doesn't want to see him?_

Harley could not contain her brow from wrinkling as she looked at her friend. Ivy was not facing the blonde, instead she looked down to the baby in her arms with an almost worried expression. Her face was as stoic as possible, but there was a glint in her eyes.

She was … scared.

As the blue-haired infant began to fuss, Ivy rocked her back and forth and shushed her softly. Flora let out a moan of protest, obviously a little upset about something. Maybe it was the fact that her mother was unsettled.

 _You idiot, she's hiding from him!_

 _What?_

 _Ivy! She's hiding in here—that's why she couldn't come outside._

Why would Ivy hide from the father of her own child?

Harley did not have the time to rationale about her friend's actions or motivations. Because, as soon as the brunette teenager reported to the group that the noise was not who Ivy feared, she swiftly withdrew the handheld crossbow from her thigh and loaded it.

 _Oh, right … Show time!_

Helena didn't say a word as she ran from the enclosure, the vines opening and Harley instantly heard a series of strange noises. Harley didn't wait as she saw her retreating. Her body surged with anticipation as she slipped out of her coat.

"What are you doing?" Ivy suddenly hissed.

The blonde smiled wildly. "What do you think?" she asked almost sardonically. She threw her coat over the chair of vines that sat in the corner, she reached down to unfasten the buckles on her shoes. Cute shoes, but very inconvenient for running. "Aren't _you_ coming?"

There was someone breaking into her house. Was she just going to stand there?

Ivy only blinked at her friend incredulously, eyes widened, before almost instantly gesturing to the baby in her arms.

 _Oh yeah …_

 _Yeah, remember that genius?_

 _Like she can do a lot of fighting with a baby …_

Harley had completely forgotten about the infant. Ivy was usually one of the first to respond to a situation such as this. From the way the vines were shrieking, the threat was very real. As her stocking feet touched the dirt floor, she felt the pulsing of the plant roots. They were protesting from the movement, taking in more water to aid in their efforts.

Ivy visibly winced.

She could feel the strain.

Sharp thorns that looked more like spikes snapped out of the walls around them. It was obvious that the vines were on full defense if they had gone that far to protect their mistress.

Shaking off the weariness, Ivy looked to Harley with resignation. "Go," she responded, pulling her daughter away from the entrance. "I'll be right there."

If Ivy had been locked in her house for as long as Harley estimated, it had been a while since her last scuffle. Fighting had not been the redhead's first instinct, but Ivy came to the realization that it _should_ have been. This was her home, and more than her "babies" were under attack.

She had a real baby to worry about.

Racing up the stairs towards the entrance, Harley clearly hear the sounds of the shrieking plants along with breaking glass. She knew it was probably a bad idea to dive into battle without a weapon or a plan, but Harley knew that Helena only reacted that way for one reason.

 _Something is definitely going down._

 _I just really hope there are some skulls to bash…_

Harley needed to take out her stress on something.

 _Who would have thought that Ivy would have a baby?_

 _Yeah, and right around the time of this thing with you …_

 _Too weird._

Harley would think about that topic when the eminent threat was gone. She wanted to find Helena as soon as possible. The teenager had swiftly disappeared before Harley could even start following. Even if Harley was the one in trouble, she was still the adult.

 _Cat will kill us if we die **after** Leni … _

_You mean, after she revives us?_

 _Yeah, of course …_

By the time Harley stumbled into the "foyer", she finally found the younger girl. The Huntress was firing off a few arrows … at what looked like a ninja assassin.

A female ninja assassin.

Harley reacted right away. Before the entirely black-clad masked figure could slice at the teenager, Harley used her full body weight to launch at her. Snagging her legs around the woman, she flipped her over onto the floor. The long sharp blade fell from the ninja's hand and skidded across the floor. Before her prey could attempt to get up, Harley grabbed her by the skull and began to bash her head against the concrete. When she finally stopped moving, Harley looked up to Helena.

The girl was … off fighting another one of these interesting attackers.

Harley paused as she analyzed the situation. It took only a few nanoseconds, but she still needed to know _who_ she was killing.

The first thing she noticed was the car that was lodged into one of the glass walls. The slick little black sports car was unmanned, the open door revealing no driver, however the engine was still revving despite it being on the side.

 _Hey, we know that car …_

From the trail of glass behind the machine, and the even larger hole in the glass wall right next to the front door, it was obvious that it had been the source of the crash. Whoever had been driving _may_ have been aiming for the door …

A sickening crack sounded from beside her.

 _… we know that sound …_

"Cat!" came out of Harley's mouth.

The woman in skin-tight black leather wasn't facing her, too busy with another masked woman that she was striking down with her trademark whip. The first thing that Harley noticed was the amount of glass that was embedded into the back of her leather motorcycle jacket.

As Harley announced her arrival, the master thief turned around to smirk at the blonde.

Catwoman's purple eyes glinted as she let out a sigh. "Hey Harley."

Bouncing up and down, Harley nearly skipped over to the black-haired woman. It had been ages since she saw the oldest of her "siblings". Of course, Harley had to headbutt this bitch wielding a pair of oriental knives before she could make it over to her, but it was worth it. Harley kicked the woman in the gut before taking the knives away. After a quick slitting of her throat, Harley was satisfied seeing the blood.

With the next one dead, Harley jumped up and smothered the older woman with a hug.

"Cat, Cat, Cat—Kitty-Cat!" she exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet, making sure to keep the knives away from her friend. As Harley pulled away, she was ignoring the distressed sounds of combat behind her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she finally spotted Helena. She was back-flipping another woman to the ground, heavily laying into her figure. As Harley heard a crack, she was assured that the younger girl could handle herself, at least for the moment.

 _Good girl!_

 _She's been remembering her lessons!_

There were only two more masked figures, including the one underneath of her, and Harley was certain the teenager could handle herself.

Harley pulled away from her friend and held her face in her hands. "Oh, you look so nice with shorter hair!" she declared, before pulling away to look her over better.

The taller woman before her was still smiling, a deep look in her eyes. Cat had always held the look of an old soul trapped in a young body.

Ebony curls spilled out around her face almost like a halo, illuminating her flawless pale skin. Her eyes were naturally feline in nature, the thick dark lashes only highlighting the cat-eye eyeliner that framed them. Flawlessly painted burgundy lips never moved more than a few centimeters with her grin.

Cat was dressed in street clothes that day, the tight leather pants accented by the motorcycle jacket that hung open to reveal the leather bustier top underneath. Harley couldn't help but notice Cat wincing as she moved around. The black-haired woman's heels landed into the last masked woman's solar plexus, and she retracted her long whip to turn to Harley again.

"Nice to see you," Cat remarked, the limp figure falling to the ground.

Lack of movement confirmed their opponent was dead.

 _Hm, no restraint from Cat today …_

 _Wonder who these fools are …_

"It's nice to see you too!" Harley exclaimed. "I thought you were busy."

Cat glanced over to the indigo-clad teenager. She headed right over to the younger girl, who was wrestling with the other woman.

A few minutes ago, Helena had abandoned her weapon and was relying on hand-to-hand combat. With a few swift kicks to the abdomen and finally the face, she slammed her elbow into the other woman's back and neck, and Harley heard a crack.

 _No restraint from Leni either._

Breathing heavily, the teenager slowly rose up to her feet. When the figure on the floor moaned, without pause, Cat let out her whip onto the figure to hold her still. Harley came up from behind, and drove her new knife into this woman's neck. Harley had to strain against the bone, seeing as she drove it into the back of the woman's neck. As she stood up, Harley shook off the residual blood on her hands.

 _We_ _ **just**_ _changed._

As the figure stopped moving, Cat's eyebrow rose distinctively. "I was," she said, responding to Harley's earlier comment.

Jumping up to her feet, Harley probably looked a little too happy to be holding a pair of knives and coated with a layer of at least two people's blood. "But you came anyway?" she asked eagerly.

It had been way too long since they had the whole group together.

There was only a small smile from Cat at this, seeing as the older woman's attention was soon drawn to the teenager that was crouched in the corner.

Harley blinked for a few seconds, before she too looked over to Helena. "Leni! You're bleeding!" she exclaimed, bounding over to her.

Although Harley moved to wipe away the blood that was trickling down from her lip. Helena pulled away with a wince, and Harley paused.

Her eyes were still silver.

 _Oh yeah, she doesn't like being touched after that …_

 _More like she doesn't want more blood on her face …_

Harley retracted her hands, and relaxed knowingly. They _were_ pretty messy, and still wet. Maybe she should fix that before touching anyone. Harley refused to push Helena, but she was still concerned.

The younger girl was literally hugging herself in the corner.

Helena never explained too much of her weird ability, and over the years the blonde never asked too many questions. Harley had been born with her pale skin and ability to kill, whereas this black-haired girl was born with this strange power. She knew that Helena would tell her what was essential, so Harley did not pry. It was just something else that made their group rather interesting.

For the most part, from what Harley witnessed over the years, the teenager in front of her was an emotional sponge. The official term was something along the lines of "Empath".

Helena had the ability to absorb feelings and sensations, and literally the emotions of others. From fear, to anger, to sadness, whenever she let loose, those things would bombard her like bombs to her system. It was primarily one of the reasons she was usually so stoic.

Allowing the emotions in would tear her to pieces.

Undoubtedly, Helena could feel all the pain and sadness of the now dead women that littered the floor. She could also feel the death, a sensation no living creature should know. Harley had attempted to hold the younger girl in comfort many years ago. Helena only wound up absorbing her own anxiety and pity for her state, making the situation worse.

Helena ended up hurting more than just herself.

 _Cat was so angry when she saw all the scars on Leni …_

Overloaded, Helena became a wounded animal and lashed out without abandon. She even ripped and tore at her own body. All she could see were the emotions, and she could not see her friends at all. But she still knew they were there, and she never wanted them harmed.

As a result, whenever things ended, she withdrew from the moment.

Her little ability helped tremendously in a scuffle, or whenever there was a threat. It was how she knew their attacker before seeing them.

She could feel them.

However, Helena only liked to use this power in certain cases. Getting back from the state was a task in and of itself. Dragging her mind out of that pool of emotion was daunting and tremendous. So, she never released her full strength all too often.

There was one reason she let it out without wanting it; she couldn't help herself. This was when she was emotionally charged herself; she would have to be experiencing her own dramatic feelings.

Usually, it meant she was either angry … or scared.

This hadn't been that much of a scuffle. It had been over within a few minutes. So, which one of those emotions had she been experiencing?

From the way she trembled, Harley could only conclude it was fear.

Harley glanced over to the older woman beside her.

Cat was staring at the girl on the floor, a deep concern in her eyes. Harley realized that her friend wanted to hold the girl as well. But Selina knew just as well as Harley that Helena couldn't be touched in such a state.

And whereas Helena would accept Harley's physical concern, she would probably push Cat away.

The blonde bit her lip.

This was turning out into a very awkward day …

Harley perked up, attempting to divert the energy of the room. The last thing Helena needed at that point was more dreariness. What had been best in the past was attempt to go about normal behavior, and she would come around with more positive vibes.

"So … what's up with you?" she asked the taller woman.

 _Like we're just gonna forget the dead bodies on the floor?_

 _Hey, I'm not one to be nosy …_

 _Yeah right!_

Selina turned her head in Harley's direction, brow raised. Well, in her defense, Harley was acting like she hadn't just killed a few people. Letting out a deep sigh, Selina rubbed the back of her neck.

Harley realized how tired the older woman looked. "Same old same old," she responded.

 _So, lots of blood and tears then._

 _Yep, typical Cat._

The silence was shattered by a voice from behind them.

"Is everyone alright?"

Selina and Harley both turned around, and found Ivy standing in the doorway. Her hat and skirt had been removed, and she had most definitely armed herself. The greenery mistress was holding a rather large and ancient-looking shotgun in one hand, and a revolver in the other. Strapped around her torso, over her shoulder, was a belt of transparent bullets filled with mutlicolored liquids.

The redhead's eyes landed on Harley. "You look horrible," she commented. "How did you get that much blood on you that fast?"

Harley shrugged. "I may have knicked an artery …"

Walking up to her two friends, Ivy glanced at the still revving car as she stepped over the bodies. "Cat, what on earth is going on that you had to crash through my walls?" she questioned.

Cat was wrapping up her whip around her arm, and gestured to the bodies on the floor. "I took care of them," she responded simply. Ivy didn't need to worry, the threat had been taken care of.

It was obvious Cat did not want to elaborate on why she was being attacked by these people, or who they even were. She probably would not give them anymore information. Harley was curious, but Cat was even more stubborn than Helena.

Realizing that this was the end of that conversation, Ivy's eyes zeroed in on the bodies. "I'm guessing you'll need to dispose of them?" she asked. Cat only responded with a nod. "Well, I supposed the girls will take the fresh meat, even if they prefer live prey …"

Cat let out a sigh. "I did my best," she muttered.

It was then that Cat turned away from them as she walked over to the car. Ignoring the glass in her back, she opened the rear door and reached inside. Ivy had come up behind her right away, suddenly looking startled—like she had just remembered something.

"You brought him?!" she hissed in almost a whisper. It was clear she was a mix of annoyed and concerned. "How could you bring him here?"

 _Uh … he who?_

Cat crawled halfway into the car, and after a few moments she emerged with something in her arms.

 _Wait a damn minute …_

 _Two … do I hear three?!_

 _Does your "maybe" count as three?_

The baby was older than Flora, and most distinctively male. From the way he was holding his own neck up, it was clear he was closer to a half-year old than a newborn. His short black hair wasn't nearly as curly as Cat's, and his eyes were a sapphire blue. Completely covered from head to toe in dark cloth, he was dressed as plainly as possible. For Cat, this was clearly strange.

She'd never allow even a baby out of the house looking that plain.

Harley jumped up. "Baby!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms out above her as she went over to Cat's side.

Instantly crouching down to look him in the eye, Harley stuck her tongue out at him playfully. "Hello there, cutie-pie!" she said, tickling his chin with her only clean hand. "What's your name?"

Oddly enough, despite the chaos around them, the baby looked oddly calm. Not a tear in sight, his face lax with wonder. He was curiously looking at the space around him, taking in as much as his young eyesight could.

As Harley looked up to Cat, the older woman let out a sigh. "Damian," she told her.

Harley smiled even wider. "Hi Damian," she said, noticing on closer inspection that he was a little grimy. There wasn't a scratch on him, the car and carseat doing its job in protecting the passengers. "You need a bath too, hm?"

Wrapping a blanket around him, Cat reliquished and finally gave the baby to Harley. They had all been accustomed to little girls. Boys were such a treat.

Making sure only to touch the blanket, and never the baby underneath, Harley became aware of the blood drying onto her skin and clothes. She bounced the infant as she positioned him onto her hip.

"He's so … cute!" Harley exclaimed. "How old is he?"

"He will be one year old in August," came the reply from the corner.

Helena stood up, and as she meekly walked over Harley could see that her eyes were lilac again. She was back, but still holding herself in a hug. The Huntress looked to the older dark-haired woman, her expression angry. "Why'd you bring him here?" she demanded.

Selina's eyes narrowed on the younger girl, unpleased with this tone. "The better question is, why are _you_ here?" she interrogated, attempting to divert the subject. " _You're_ supposed to be in class."

Harley looked over to the teenager, brow wrinkled. "You had class this morning, Leni?" she asked. The baby in her arms reached up to take a hold of Harley's hair, but as his grip was only so strong, she let him be.

Only a shrug was the response to Cat's inquiry. "I sent in my homework," Helena replied. "And attendance is optional for that one."

"That doesn't mean you can slack off," Harley parented. "You worked so hard to get into college early."

Harley knew more than anyone—she had been paying for tuition. Helena had been brilliant since she was a child, and her early acceptance at a university was such good news for the entire party. Cat could have afforded it, and was paying for it originally, but Harley insisted upon doing so when Helena announced she was pursuing medicine. Ivy had may a few payments as well, but was mostly just funding her daily allowance. Harley just had to pay for it on principle—being the only other resident doctor.

 _We're technically not a doctor anymore …_

 _Just because we no longer have the title, doesn't mean we didn't learn all the smarts …_

Helena just pushed off her comment. "I handled it, okay?" she snapped. Harley winced; Helena was clearly still mad. Her gaze turned to Cat again. "You shouldn't have brought him here."

Cat took on a stronger tone with her response. "That is not your concern," she instructed, retrieving a few bags from the back of the car. Clearly, Selina was not in the mood. "But if you must know, I had no other choice."

Harley glanced between the two women, and then over to Ivy. The redhead was visibly nervous, feeling the tension that was evident in the room.

 _Hey, did Ivy know about Damian too … ?_

 _Am I the last to know_ _ **everything**_ _…?_

 _You're also the last one to get knocked up, too …_

 _That has not been confirmed yet!_

 _Wow, all three of you within a year, that's something else …_

Despite Cat's evident unsatisfied mood, Helena refused to back down. "You know very well where you could have taken him," she snapped.

 _There's some place safer than Ivy's?_

 _Really, where?_

Helena was the one scolding this time. "You never should have hidden this," she insisted, arms gesturing angrily around her. She pointed to the distance, not looking away from Cat. "He could have helped."

 _He who?_

Harley bit her lip. She was clearly only getting half of the conversation. But there was no way she was going to interrupt—last thing she needed was her head bitten off.

Selina visibly frowned. " _You_ want to deliver him there?" she asked, clearly egging the girl on.

Her tone was quiet, yet angered. Her eyes were daring the teenager to do as she was instructing, but the two of them were aware this was the opposite of what Selina wanted.

"When you do, maybe you should attempt to explain yourself? I highly doubt he would believe you without telling him who you are!"

Helena said nothing, but she was clearly seething.

"Go home," was the next thing that Cat said to the younger girl. Her tone was calmer, warmer. "And get some sleep. You've been up for long enough."

 _Oh yeah, her insomnia …_

The teenager rolled her eyes, but turned away from Cat and headed for the door.

Only, Harley really didn't want to send her away like that.

"I'll see you later, Leni!" Harley called after her.

Pausing, the Huntress glanced over her shoulder and gave Harley a genuine, albeit solemn, smile. But without another word, she slipped through the gapping hole in the wall, completely disregarding the door itself.

Harley looked over to Cat. "Who did she mean?" she asked. If it was a safer place, then it was a safer place.

Selina was not looking at her, too busy turning off the car's engine. "Damian's father," she replied simply.

Harley blinked. She had anticipated the answer, and she had been right. However, it had been strangely easier to get out of the older woman than Harley expected. Harley glanced down to the baby in her arms. "He … doesn't know about him?" she asked.

Cat was silent, clearly hesitant to speak. She placed her bags over her shoulders. "No, he doesn't," she confirmed. "And Helena is fighting with me about it."

"She … wants him to know?" came the next question, this time from Ivy. She had just finished patching the wall with new vines. "Why?"

Selina glanced at the space around them, but before she answered she nodded to the hallway. She wanted to tell them while they were moving. As they found themselves heading down the steps and into the main area, Harley held up the rear but quickly caught up to hear Cat's soft words.

"I suppose she wants to meet him too," was the only thing Cat said. "Damian's father."

Harley was eager for information. In the span of a few minutes, she discovered that her two oldest friends both had babies, and neglected to tell her a thing. She wanted to know as much as possible. Why would they hide this? Not to mention they were both being so secretive about the fathers. Was she really going to give out some answers?

"And why would she want that?" Ivy asked.

"Because Damian's father is Helena's father," Selina finally answered, turning around to look them both in the eye. "The minx decided to do her own DNA test."

 _Smart girl._

 _Very foolish, but smart …_

Harley finally caught up to the two of them, glancing from one to the other. "And … that's a reason to hide them both from him?" she asked, clearly confused.

Hide children from their father? Was that really necessary? Coming from the woman who shot the father of her potential child, it seemed a little hypocratic, but she was certain that her friends had chosen better partners than she did.

 _Hopefully a little less homecidal._

Ivy crossed her arms over her chest, neither annoyed or angry. She looked deflated, like she was worn thin. "He's a criminal, Harley," she responded.

"Yeah …" Harley responded. "So are we."

They were all criminals—this was not news.

Was there a point she was trying to make?

"Unlike Ivy's baby daddy, who people avoid like the plague," Selina started. Ivy glared at the black-haired woman out of the corner of her eye, but said nothing. "Helena and Damian's father is a criminal that all the other criminals want to kill."

 _Is Cat going somewhere with this …?_

Harley didn't answer, just stared with confusion. Cat didn't linger, turning around and walking away again. That was all she was going to say.

The blonde turned to Ivy. "Um …"

Letting out a sigh, the plant mistress rubbed her temple. "You know who, Harley," she responded. "Who else would Cat let touch her?"

"You mean, aside from that guy back—oh!" Realization hit her, and her eyes flew open. "Wait a second, _him_? How is that possible?"

Ivy groaned as she began walking. "Just wait until you meet Flora's father."

"Oh yeah, who is he anyway?"

The redhead laughed. "Haven't you guessed yet?"

Harley only shrugged. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean anything …"

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"Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated." – Confucious

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"So, Leni is … Cat's daughter?"

"Apparently."

"But she doesn't know—that Cat is her mother."

"Nope."

"How did _we_ not know?"

"She had her at fifteen, Harley; would you tell anyone?"

"Well, she obviously found her another home, right?"

"That's not how Cat put it."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember that scar on her stomach?"

"Yeah, that big, awful looking thing—wait, you don't mean …?"

"Yep, and it took all this time to find her."

"So, that explains the lack of birth certificate … does that mean Leni doesn't technically exist?"

"Well, Helena Kyle doesn't exist—never did."

"That sucks …"

Pause.

"So, who do you think it is?"

"Who?"

"Leni's daddy! Who do you think he is?"

Laugh.

"That's a good one."

"What do you mean?"

"Like you don't know?"

"Know what?"

"Harls—I worry about you sometimes. But this is really frightening. You have honestly don't know?"

"Why else would I be asking _you_?"

"Remember how Cat was always disappearing? Well, he did come by that one time …"

"But Cat said she only has a thing for that one guy … "

"Yeah … "

"Wait a minute! That preppy kid that she brought here that one time? He was so … naïve."

Sigh.

"Yes, Harley, that guy …"

Pause.

"Oh … _oh_!"

"Yeah, the light bulb finally went on."

"That sure explains a lot … "

"But we can't say anything. Cat probably will deny that Helena is hers—I'm pretty sure she's gonna tell people they're related, but not much else."

"That makes sense. He disappeared or something, right? Well, what would _you_ do?"

"Not get knocked up by _him_ , that's for sure. Or any man for that matter."

Giggle.

"What?"

"I'd like to meet the guy that sweeps you off your feet, Pammy. He's sure to be interesting."

"Like that will ever happen."

"Oh yeah? I think it's the total opposite—I can see you falling real hard and having a whole bunch of kids. You know, I bet you'll have a kid before me. And we both know how likely that is."

Grumble.

"Dream on, Harley."

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"You cannot carry out fundamental change without a certain amount of madness." – Thomas Sankara

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"Wonderful."

"Awe … aren't you glad I'm not dead, boss lady?"

"Glad is not the word I would use."

"Shucks, and here I thought you were concerned."

"I am, just not about your safety, Miss Quinn."

"And we were getting so close to a breakthrough …"

Pause.

"Your report, Miss Quinn."

"Oh yeah. I'll be out of commission for a few days. I'm laying low."

"For recovery? For how long?"

"About … three to five days …"

Pause.

"Fastenating wording. Anything else?"

"I'm happy to report that I revealed absolutely no information while I was captured. All secrets are safe."

"That's a surprise. The Joker is notorious for his torture."

"Well … I wouldn't call what we did as torture …"

Pause.

"What _would_ you call it?"

"Um … negotiations …"

"What kind of negotiations?"

"He he … the kind where we … didn't do much talking …"

Pause.

Longer pause.

"Boss lady?"

"I am still on the line, Miss Quinn. I'm just unsure if I heard you correctly. Are you telling me that the Joker … initiated a physical relationship … with _you_?"

"Well, that … _is_ a very good way of putting it …"

"And, he left you unscathed?"

"Do bite marks count?"

"But he did not harm you."

"Well … I think they call it S&M …"

Pause.

"You there?"

Silence.

"Fascinating—you said you were laying low? Where?"

"Somewhere safe … and no one knows where I am. I'm running my clubs through messages, so no one should be suspecting anything weird."

"I suppose that's good enough. Stay where you are, and do not contact me until I contact you."

"Um, okay …"

Click.

"Well, that was f**king weird."

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 _"Babies don't need fathers, but mothers do. Someone who is taking care of a baby needs to be taken care of." – Amy Heckerling_

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Harley cooed at the baby laying down in front of her. "Come on, Damian," she coaxed gently. She reached down to tickle his little pudgy belly. "Why won't you smile for me?"

The blonde was not sure what was wrong with the little boy, but what she did know was she had been with him for four days, and not once did she see him smile. He was almost seven months old; this was just abnormal. She was determined to see him laugh.

Sitting inside a claw-foot tub, Harley made sure only to fill the water up a few inches so that the baby in front of her could lay down without her worrying about his safety. When Selina reported that she had to leave her child with Ivy for a few days, she reported that she was going off to do a few things that were not exactly baby friendly.

Cat did not go into detail, but Harley was convinced that it may have had to do with the small group of masked women that she had the pleasure of helping Ivy feed to her favorite plants; Lilith, Circe and Dolores. Ivy was hesitant into letting Cat's child stay, having her own baby to worry about. But seeing as that Harley was already staying, the blonde jumped at the chance to watch the little one. She was just glad Cat hadn't questioned her on what she was doing the past few days.

Helena and Ivy would tell her later anyway.

Cat simply left behind several of Damian's things, as well as some instructions for his care.

Part of them was bath time.

But seeing as little Damian was actually too big to bathe in any of Ivy's sinks, Harley had to find an alternative. This happened to be Ivy's own tub, but it was way to big for her to put him in by himself. Once she removed his clothes and placed him into the nice warm water, Harley decided to strip down to her undergarments and join him in the tub. She was going to get wet from bathing him anyway.

Damian was such a calm and good baby. He hardly fussed at all over the past few days. The only times he did express himself was when he was uncomfortable, which apparently was not often. Harley had been with him for the entirety of her time visiting the greenhouse, and she even had begun sleeping near his little makeshift bed. He was so quiet, and even when he fussed he was restrained.

Now, if only Harley could get him to smile …

Maybe he got it from his daddy. Supposedly he was rather stoic and solemn. Not that Harley had anything to back this up personally, as these were all third-hand speculations that reached her ears through the grapevine.

Then again, Selina had never been much of a smiler either.

With his parents, he didn't have much going for him in the happiness area; she needed to make him to smile at least _once._

Only, the baby stared up to her with wide blue eyes, just blinking every now and then as she used a soft cloth to scrub his little arms and legs. He kicked several times, but refused to smile.

 _Oh well, baby steps for the baby …_

Kissing his little nose, Harley sat up against the tub. The bathroom was sectioned off in another room of the greenhouse. The building of Beaudelaire's itself was actually several buildings joined by a series of pathways. It had been one building, and over time the original owners kept adding to it. As the diversity of the inhabitant plants increased, so did the need for special climates. Ivy possessed trees, shrubs and flowers from all over the world inside these walls.

At that moment, Harley was in the muggy steamy one was developed to resemble the jungle. The tropical plants that surrounded the tub thrived in this climate.

Where else would Ivy put the tub?

It was such a relief from the main space.

Flora was sleeping in that room, and after a day of staying there, Harley quickly became aware of why it had been so cold in the building. According to Ivy, Flora apparently needed it to be cold—just like her father. Flora's internal body temperature needed to be kept lower than normal humans, or else she would overheat and become very sick to the point it would endanger her life. Considering her mother was some kind of floral hybrid, that probably meant that Flora herself was not considered human either.

That was all Ivy explained.

Harley did not ask any more questions. She had already asked about Flora's father, and the redhead had instantly changed the subject. However, from what Cat told her, combined with everything Harley already knew, she had a pretty good idea.

A criminal.

Other criminals avoided him.

And he needed the cold.

 _Hm … that's a toughy._

 _We don't know too many criminals personally …_

 _We read about them, but that's about it …_

But Harley really hadn't the time to dwell on it. Taking care of Damian was turning out to be a twenty-four seven task. He needed attention at all times. No wonder Helena had told her Cat was busy. Thankfully, he was sleeping through the entire night and he kept a fairly regular schedule, but it was just so new to the blonde.

Helena had been four when she started living with them.

Not to mention, that day in particular was a little more stressful. Ivy decided to leave her home that day. Apparently, she had been in her home for months and had not left once since Flora had been born. With Harley holding down the fort, it allowed Ivy to run around to many of her other, albeit smaller, greenhouses.

Ivy was in the drug trade, primarily. It was a very good source of income, considering Ivy grew her own breed of plants and could tailor them as she saw fit. It was not Ivy's passion, but it was a regular source of income so that they could go about their work without interference. When she wasn't intoxicating Gotham's underworld, Ivy was supplying many other criminals with covert explosives.

Plants were not on the bomb squads' radar.

Despite her numerous funds and contacts, Ivy had been lacking in her role in her own business—actually running it first hand. While on "maternity leave", the redhead had other people, mostly her own drones, were faithfully running the operation without her. However, more recently other things had been occurring.

The redhead had explained that Flora's father had been sabotaging her businesses to get her attention.

Flora's father … did not like the fact that Ivy was ignoring him. Ivy gave off the impression that she was fearful of his anger, but Harley disagreed. He was still leaving her flowers regularly; he wasn't that angry. Harley knew, since she had witnessed the florist come almost every other day to deliver them and leave them by the door.

Ivy herself had been doing a good job of ignoring the attacks, but there was only so much she could do from afar.

So, Harley was somewhat of a godsend.

 _Well, if the only thing I can do is babysit, I guess it's not too bad …_

 _Besides … baby!_

Babies were just fun; this had been the most fun Harley had in weeks. All she had been doing recently was work, work, work … and more work.

 _Well, except for that little episode a few days ago …_

 _Yes, how can you forget Mistah Jay?_

Harley let out a sigh of relief, still thinking back to a few days before. Within a day of her staying, Harley realized one morning that her monthly bleeding had come. Even without taking the tests, she realized that she was _not_ pregnant.

It had been such a weight that was lifted off her shoulders.

Babies were nice, but dangerous. Both of her friends were in _that_ boat and having to deal with the multitude of problems that came along with it. Harley realized from her own anxieties, which she had gone through over the short amount of time, that she was nowhere near ready for a child of her own.

So many thoughts had been running through her head. She was having strange dreams too. Mostly, they were about a pale child, with pale blonde hair and bright blue eyes. It would have been a girl. Harley had just known. If she was carrying a child, it would be a girl. At least this one would have been. Her little curls would be held in pigtails on the sides of her head.

And she would have a nursery the size of a house containing enough pink and purple bows to smother the child.

That, and a multitude of giant stuffed bunnies.

How would _he_ react to their child? Would he give her all those things? The clown of crime would most definitely spoil his own flesh and blood, probably more so than her. That was evident even after only knowing him so briefly.

But … what happened the past few days, that had been all a show right? It had been nothing but a display of control over her.

There was no way that he could possibly want her … in that way.

The Joker was many things. And of all his traits, Harley had a sinking feeling that if he discovered she was carrying his child, and actually had it, the child itself may have not been safe. Somehow, she did not envy her friends. Harley did not want to start imagining how they felt.

Hiding the existence of their children from their fathers?

Harley had chastised them before. Now she wasn't so sure about that. She might have done the same in their shoes. Thankfully, it was no longer a decision that Harley needed to make. That did not mean she could put it out of her mind. For a while, it had been a distinct possibility.

Snapping out of her thoughts, Harley realized that the baby before her was beginning to make noise. Her charge was either bored, or most likely, displeased with the fact that his skin was resembling prunes.

With a smile, Harley lifted him up to her shoulder, and stood up. It was time to get out. Flora was probably awake by now.

As she stepped out of the tub, she grabbed the fluffy towel hanging over the table and wrapped the baby in it. She would dry herself off later. Lowering herself down to the tile floor, she put down a cushion before setting him down on it. Within a few minutes he was completely dry and dressed. She made sure to pull on socks onto his feet. Despite the footed onesie, it was still going to be cold in the other room.

Damian was, as far as their standards, physiologically normal. He needed to stay warm.

Making sure to place a pacifier in his mouth before she left physical contact, Harley took the time to stand in front of the mirror in the corner and blow dry her hair. The dyed ends had faded days ago, but she was still trying to keep up her appearance. Crime bosses could not look shabby.

She changed out of her wet things and put on some simple undergarments. The boy-shorts and sports bra were navy, and the cropped hoodie and shorts over top were red. She pulled on thicker thigh-high socks on her legs, as her options were limited. Of the things that were retrieved from her wardrobe, heavy clothes were not among them.

 _Do we even **own** warm clothes?_

 _Well, nothing with long pants …_

She needed to further invest in her wardrobe after she got back to her club. Draining the tub, Harley hung up her wet things over the side of the tub before she retrieved the baby on the floor. Pulling him onto her hip, she bounced him up and down.

"You hungry, little guy?" she asked as she headed down the hallway of trees. She slipped into the passageway that would lead her back to the main space, her stocking feet padding over the grass. "I am, you want a snack?"

She pulled his blanket closer around him as she opened the door into the colder space. It was a dramatic drop, at least forty or fifty degrees. Thankfully, they were still a little warm from the bath.

"I'm gonna see if Flora's awake, and then we can all have something to eat, hm?"

Harley knew there was no chance of a response from the almost seven month old, but she knew it was good for him to hear her voice. He was more interested in pulling on her hair, but at least he was not doing it harshly.

Walking down the spiral stairs in the main space, Harley hummed a little tune. She wondered when Ivy was getting back. Harley had been being nice and cooking meals for Ivy, seeing as she was a guest for so long, so she was concerned about what time to start dinner.

Maybe she should have noticed that it was colder in the room than it had been earlier.

Then, maybe she would not have been able to detect the newest guest to the greenhouse before walking into the room.

Harley stopped short as she came into Flora's room, unable to contain her gasp at the figure standing in the space.

Her entrance made him turn around.

Dressed entirely in white, he was stark against all the green behind him. From the way his hood fell over his eyes and collar came up in front of his mouth, Harley could not make out his face. The loose jacket that hung over his shoulders had a lot more fabric than necessary, the folds billowing out around him. Beneath that were long pants that would have suited a mountain climber, and a pair of combat boots.

He would have looked ready for an expedition to one of the earth's poles, had it not been for the fact that he was bare-chested under his jacket.

Shiny almost translucent silver skin coated the bulging muscles on his chest, his broad shoulders taking up a lot of the space. He was not bulky, almost slim like a swimmer. What made him even more unearthly was the faint glow that radiated from beneath his clothing.

It was coming from the shiny white metal that encased and framed almost each and every one of his body parts. The metal was layered like scales to help with movement, but left plenty of his skin exposed. He faint blue glow looked almost neon, the lines of color streaming like a nervous system all over his body.

In his arms, was Flora.

He was holding her quite securely, in no way threatening. Flora was still asleep, clearly unafraid by the man holding her. She obviously sensed no threat.

As soon as he turned around, one of his hands reached up to pull down his hood. His long sleeves covered a majority of his hands, that were also encased in the glowing scaly metal. His cowl was pulled away from his face, and Harley couldn't help but be surprised.

 _Way to go Ivy …_

 _He's … surprisingly very hot …_

 _Or is it cool … ?_

Ice blue hair tumbled down his shoulders, long and thin. It was pulled back halfway with a few braids at the top of his head. It may have been longer than Harley's own hair. The underside of his head had been shaved down to reveal the multitude of snowflake patterned white and blue tattoos along his head and neck. His hairstyle was bordering on being a Mohawk, the sheer amount of hair on the top of his head preventing that. Blue icicle tattoos marked his face like some kind of native tribal markings, down the center of his face and right across his eyes.

A very intricate and delicate looking helmet encased his head, clinging to his chiseled jaw line as if it were facial hair. The light coming from beneath his chin gave him a ghostly glow, even more so than the visor over his eyes.

Harley could see small words appearing on the clear material in front of his eyes, the devise connected to the rest of the armor. There were bright white gemstones almost everywhere on his body, including the large choker on his neck where the largest sat. It seemed to pulsate with light, feeding it to the lines.

He was extremely good looking. He had a rugged appearance, not beautiful but in many ways incredibly masculine. Face entirely calm and stoic, she noticed him looking at her curiously.

There was absolutely no malice coming from him at all.

This man was Flora's father. Harley instantly recognized the similarities in the baby's bone structure to his own facial features.

How did he get in here?

And what was Harley going to do?

"Hello," slipped out of Harley's mouth before she could say anything. It was clearly not the smartest thing to do, but she couldn't take it back.

The man blinked once, then twice. "Hello," he responded cautiously, a little confused.

He was calm, not agitated in any way. His free hand returned to Flora's back. Harley noticed how large it was compared to the child, and how delicate he was being.

He had a voice that was clear and strong, laced with years of education. "And you are?"

Harley swallowed and bit her lip. She needed to tread cautiously. "I … should be asking you that, shouldn't I?" she asked, looking him up and down. She instinctively readjusted the baby in her own arms.

This was not good, not good at all. If this person was who Harley thought he was … then that meant trouble.

The man's face remained stoic, but he nodded. "Fair enough," he responded. His movements were surprisingly quiet for the heavy boots he wore, as he took a few steps forward and extended his hand. "Victor Fries."

As Harley looked at him closer, she realized that he was young—younger than she had first thought. Was he younger than Harley herself?

 _Does that make Ivy a cougar?_

 _No, that only works if she's old enough to be his mother._

 _He's nowhere near there …_

Harley was hesitant as she stared at his hand. She thought it best to remain calm and play along. Ivy slept with him, he couldn't be too bad. He was holding Flora—that meant that she needed to keep him calm. However, as she saw his metal-encased hand, she was hesitant.

Was this a trick?

Harley was slow to take his hand, and felt a chill run up her arm and spine as she grasped and shook it. "Harley Quinn."

This … had trouble written all over it.

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(Author's Note: Please, please, please don't yell at me. I am very much aware there was no Joker in this chapter. He was supposed to be there, but things have a way of working out differently. You have to remember, that where I left Joker, he was stranded on an island without weapons or a vehicle. That, and the explosion was bound to attract _someone's_ attention (if you know who I mean). He's a little more than preoccupied. That, and you have to remember that not only is Harley hiding, he has no idea where she is ... how could he know? He didn't even know her name when they met.

I swear Joker will be in the next chapter though!

Please be happy with my consolation prize; Flora's daddy. That ... and all the juicy bits about Cat and company. I know this chapter was heavy, but I attempted to make it a little longer in compensation for such a long time without updating. I hope it's enough for now.

To all of you who guessed correctly on Flora's father, congratulations. I got quite a few guesses (most of them were good), but sadly not all of you were correct. But yes, it is Mr. Freeze. And no, the reason for this has nothing to do with the live-action film they were both in together. I shall elaborate on the why later.

I went for a cyberpunk vibe for our notorious iceman. And I am so sick of seeing him in that weird suite with a glass dome over a bald head, hence my change in his style. Not only did I try to modernize him, I must admit I was attempting to make him more attractive.

One of the things that I found so fascinating about Ayer-verse Joker was the fact that some found him attractive. I do not see why villains need to be ugly-I find that the best villains are truly quite beautiful. It only makes it more disturbing to learn that someone so good-looking can be so corrupted. Not only do I find it more realistic (why can't villains be sexy? It's one of the best weapons), I find that it goes with this universe.

Also, I must apologize for the delay in this chapter. Currently, I am in the middle of one of the more stressful points of my life (I'm enrolled in school, and my term is coming to a close. Graduation is literally around the corner-with any hope, it will be in January) and I just couldn't find time to write with all of my work piling up on me. That, and I had to rewrite this chapter at least three times since my last update.

But once again, thank you for reading this chapter. Please review for me! Tell me what you think!)

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	7. Chapter 7

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Warnings:

There is a reason this story has the rating it does.

Graphic content ahead.

Proceed with caution.

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Chapter Seven

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"Fear can be a potent aphrodisiac."― Kele Moon, Beyond Eden

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Harley felt every hair on her body stand on end.

The hot, ragged breaths against her neck made moisture cling to her skin.

Whispered curses fell from Harley's mouth as she wrestled with the padded cuffs around her wrists. Hoisted up above her head, the blonde craned her neck in order to look up to them. She hated how the pose left her so exposed, forcing her breasts forward in such an awkward way. Even if she tried to sit up, the weight against her thighs only assisted in keeping her pinned.

Nails dug into her upper thighs to the point of drawing blood, attached to the figure hovering above her.

How the hell did she wind up like this?

 _You forgot to pay attention, remember … ?_

Before Harley answered herself, another presence came into focus. A firm hand gripped her chin and pulled her head down, steely eyes locking with her own.

The guttural pants heated her lips. "You know, Harley dearest …" purred the harsh tone of the voice behind the crimson lips hovering inches from her mouth. "We seem to have a problem …"

The sound caused her to squirm violently, the muscle inside her belly defining her as female clasping down tightly. As much as she hated the truly primal breathing against her skin, the heat inside continued to rise. Heart racing, Harley felt her own skin tingle as perspiration formed.

She did not want this; she did not like it.

Then why did it feel so good?

Pelvis bones pushed against her own, immobilizing her lower body. The sheer weight of the body on top of her own limited all her other movement. Combined with the pair of arms like vice grips on her sides, realization slowly dawned on Harley.

She could not escape this.

Defiantly, she raised her chin and broke out the smuggest grin she could muster. "Problem?" she chimed back.

The beast that flared behind those eyes made her tremble.

 _Oooo … you pissed off Mistah Jay …_

Inwardly, Harley grinned at her the voices in her mind.

 _Good._

She wanted him angry.

Shaking his head, the clown of crime tisked at her ever so slowly. "Shouldn't have done that, babydoll," he whispered as one of those vice grips came back up to grasp her neck. "Lie to me."

She took in his appearance; everything from the stark green of his hair to the bright red of his lips. The awkward "J" beneath his eye danced before her eyes.

Harley felt the urge to lick it.

Cocking her head to the side, she bared her teeth with her smile. "Oh, did I?"

His grip on her leg intensified. "Yes you did," he growled.

In a split second, the Joker pulled away from her and she felt fingers crawling up her abdomen. As if to tease her, they lingered right above the pool hot liquid forming in her belly before reaching their destination. That destination happened to be the clasp holding together the flimsy fabric called a brassiere.

Harley felt a tightening hardness, a painful pleasure pressing against the fishnet barrier holding back the mounds of flesh accenting her gender. Her body practically pushed those erect nubs towards his fingers.

Damn it.

Harley put her proverbial foot down.

She gritted her teeth as she closed her eyes.

She refused to back down.

However, after opening her eyes once more, she saw the sickening elation replacing that angry beast from earlier.

"Shall I teach you how to be honest?"

She only smiled. "Do your best."

His head closed in on hers with a snap. "Always, baby girl, always."

 _This … is gonna be so much fun!_

 _Shut the hell up!_

 _How did we get here, again?_

 _Oh, don't you remember … ?_

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"The only thing worse than a boy who hates you: a boy that loves you." ― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

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Some time earlier …

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A distinctive chill ran up Harley's arm.

Harley looked at the blue-haired man in front of her with caution.

Barely touching the hand of the man in front of her caused an instantaneous freezing bite against her skin. Harley wanted to pull her hand away as soon as it happened, but she refrained. The cold caused her to jump, even if it was ever so slightly. She realized this man could tell the exchange unsettled her. However, something inside her compelled Harley to hold on for another few brief seconds.

Something inside told her it was the right decision.

Mr. Freeze gripped her hand gently, shook it politely and pulled away. As soon as he did, Harley saw the ice crystals that materialized onto her palm. The dampness of melting quickly followed, being in such proximity to her body's heat, but Harley pulled her hand to her side to wipe it off onto her clothing anyway.

It hurt.

 _How the hell does Ivy even touch him?_

 _Let alone … you know, **there** …?_

Harley put on an affectionately polite smile herself. First impressions were key with villain relations, especially for her. Her appearance was not in her favor; she would have at least gotten dressed should she have known he would be there.

And on that note, Harley remembered something important.

 _How the hell did he get in here?_

Before she could ask, Harley noticed Mr. Freeze looking over her with a mix of curiosity and confusion. "Quinn, did you say?" he asked.

Harley's brow wrinkled. "Yes," she responded, as though it was obvious. "Harley Quinn."

He cocked his head to the side. "Are you the fashion designer, or the psychiatrist?" he countered.

 _He knows about me and Cat …_

 _Hm, smart … No wonder Ivy slept with him …_

 _I wonder how much Ivy has told him …_

The blonde smiled maniacally. "I'm pretty sure you know the answer already …" she nearly sang.

A smile cracked onto his icy stoic mask. "The psychiatrist then," he determined. He looked her in the eye for several seconds. "What an interesting theme for yourself."

Harley paused.

Every instinct in her body told her to be cautious.

This was Victor Fries, aka Mr. Freeze.

Harley knew him and his history, the information from his file still logged into her mind's memory. The man before her was a brilliant scientist that transcended all expectations in the few short years of his life. His intelligence broke through to the world as he graduated from a distinguished university at age twelve, going onto his doctorate in cryogenics before he reached the age of eighteen. In the present, if Harley's memory was correct, this man was younger than the blonde herself. Before reaching twenty, he became legendary in the academic field for his research into preservation of mammals in ice.

However, everything changed after his life's work backfired upon him and transformed him into the creature that stood before Harley.

 _Of course, he had help with that …_

His entire physiological structure had been forever altered, making him into a walking iceman. Not only did he require cold to survive, he generated it with every movement. She was certain that the metal exoskeleton that he wore was his own invention; made to moderate his body temperature.

 _Flora needs cold … Freeze needs cold …_

 _How did we **not** guess it was him before?_

 _Cause we've been a little preoccupied …_

Harley did not recall actually ever speaking to him face-to-face, as Harley or Harleen. That uncertainty laid behind her caution. Freeze had been an interesting patient—obedient and nonviolent yet completely defiant of the law.

He had killed the man responsible for forever altering his body's composition, and then turned himself in willingly in exchange for a lesser sentence. Because of his nature, he had a special section in the hospital. Sadly, Harley knew for certain that she was responsible for his escape during her "rebirth". He was too smart to sit still while a riot was going on.

 _Himself, and quite a few other criminals …_

 _Namely a Mistah Jay …_

 _Ya think they ever met?_

 _Yeah right … like that's possible._

And because of his nonviolence, the hospital's security categorized Freeze as a lesser threat. Most of the time, Freeze was left alone. Harleen had been kept from the area where he was housed, but that did not mean he was entirely ignorant of her presence. He could very well have seen Dr. Quinzel in passing.

If he recognized her, that was the question.

Harley smiled maniacally at his statement. "Thank you," she responded genuinely. "I've always been a fan of yours. You leave absolutely no evidence behind with your work."

His eyebrow went up, clearly amused.

 _Good, put him at ease …_

 _Divert any and all attention from Arkham …_

For some reason, Harley instantly liked him. Maybe it was his presence; he was straightforward and hid nothing. A criminal yes, but an honest one.

"I do my best," he replied half sarcastically.

In another second, the tiny life form in his grasp became active. There was no way Harley could forget the sole source of her caution for this man. The green-skinned infant began to squirm, and Harley realized the baby had finally awoken.

The man holding her looked down, his eyes on her. "Sh," he soothed to her softly, rocking slightly. "It's okay, little girl."

Inwardly, Harley smiled. If he was this gentle with Flora, he could not be that bad.

The iceman remained distracted by the infant, his eyes aglow as he smiled at her. Now awake, she held all his attention. He moved his own head as she looked around, attempting to look her in the eye.

"She looks like my mother," he stated absently. He reached a hand up, delicately tracing the birthmark right under Flora's right eye with his metal-tipped thumb. The movement made Harley tense, but he left absolutely no mark. Flora did not even flinch. His gentleness was incredibly controlled. "She had this too."

Harley blinked at the display in front of her.

 _Is … this the first time he's seen her?_

 _But … he's not surprised. He must have known she existed._

Flora reached her little fingers towards him, pudgy digits grasping the metal that lined Freeze's grinning face. She managed to enchant him with her wide-eyed expression as she touched him so willingly, noisily panting with parted blue lips. Flora held no fear for this man.

Did she know he was her father?

Harley was half convinced that she did.

When Freeze looked back to the blonde, Harley remembered where she was. "She's younger than him?" he asked, nodding towards Harley.

Harley glanced down to the baby in her own arms. Damian could not be forgotten either. His safety equaled Flora's own. Only the black-haired little boy seemed more interested in teething on Harley's hair, and Harley reached down to pull the strands from his mouth. If he got sick off of her shampoo, his mother would kill her.

 _They leave you alone with the kids for a couple hours, Harley, and this happens …_

 _Nice going …_

Readjusting the infant on her hip, Harley paused before answering him. It may not have been the best idea to tell Freeze the identity of Damian's father. She wondered if she could avoid that. But telling Freeze that Damian was Cat's son might not have been best either; Cat's fling with the infamous big man in black was notorious even among Gotham's villain class.

But what was Harley supposed to tell him instead? He must know this other baby did _not_ belong to Ivy; their ages were to close together. How would Harley explain his presence?

"Yes," Harley finally replied, before she could figure out an answer to her question. Too long of a silence created trouble. "He was born in August—Flora was born in late December."

 _Neutral enough._

 _Withholding specifics is actually a good idea …_

He blinked. "Flora …" he mused, looking down to the baby again. "It suits her."

Harley could not contain her shocked expression.

Freeze did not know Flora's name until that very moment.

 _He didn't know his own child's name?_

 _So, he didn't know how old she was either …_

 _He didn't care about Damian's age … he wanted to know hers …_

A strange thought crossed her mind.

 _Would you have done that? To Mistah Jay?_

"Florentia, actually," Harley clarified, pushing her own thoughts away. She wanted to avoid answering that question for as long as possible. "Florentia Vi—" Harley cut herself off when realization dawned on her.

"Florentia Victoria," came another voice.

Harley instantly turned around.

The villainess known as Poison Ivy made her entrance silently, able to sneak up on the party without either of them noticing.

Her green eyes nearly aflame, a burning anger contained behind her stoic mask. Jaw clenched tightly, fists clenched by her sides, she stood astute as she stared at them.

 _Oooo … she pulled out all the stops today …_

Clearly dressed for business, Ivy donned a pair of suede leggings that laced up the sides of her legs, the wide gap letting others know she wore nothing underneath. The sheer long-sleeved peasant top that hung around her shoulders was so flimsy it barely held her breasts in place, the bottom hem fanning out at her behind with a feminine row of ruffles. The piece of cloth was held up with only the tight leather and metal corset that was laced up her waist, barely covering her modesty with the straps around her shoulders that made her stance even more astute.

As she walked forward, her widened hips swayed back and forth, her knee high boots clipping against the floor with emphasis. Her magenta curls bounced from underneath the goggles fastened to her head like a headband, the locks streaming down over her shoulders as she walked. She drew attention to her movements as she peeled off her chocolate leather gloves and threw them on the floor with a snap.

The anger radiated off her more intensely, becoming even more apparent as she came closer to Harley.

However, the redhead did not look at her friend, her eyes focused on the other member of the party.

Harley looked back at Freeze. His eyes held Ivy's intense stare.

The pair locked eyes for several seconds. Whereas Ivy's glare was enraged, Freeze gaze was … oddly delighted.

This man transformed when he realized Ivy was in the room.

The small glint within his eyes revealed an obvious joy as soon as he realized Ivy arrived. His stoic mask twitched into a smile, completely disregarding the anger Ivy gave him. He saw her fury, but did not care.

Ivy's heels clacked distinctively as she came to a halt right next to Harley. "Victor," she bit out.

A pungent paused filled the space for several seconds.

"Pamela," Freeze countered, voice smooth and soothing.

Harley bit her lip.

 _First name basis, eh?_

The tension made Harley incredibly uncomfortable to keep standing there.

Ivy was angry, Freeze was just happy to see her.

 _Huh?_

For a few moments the two stared at one another, eyes locked. Then, without looking away from the man in front of her, the redhead leaned her head towards the blonde standing next to her. "Harley," she said, voice sweeter towards her friend. "Please take Flora upstairs."

Harley glanced from Ivy to Freeze, cautiously moving forward.

When Harley reached for the baby, he did not protest. In fact, Freeze handed her over willingly. Carefully, he placed Flora in Harley's free arm, resting her head on her shoulder. Damian squirmed, but did not protest to being held with one arm.

Freeze's hand lingered on the child before he released her, hesitant to stop touching her.

Harley noticed a pang of hurt in his eyes.

 _He loves Flora._

Even if he had only learned her name a few seconds ago, he loved this baby. Flora was his child, and he cared for her deeply. Harley could tell without even asking. And from the way Freeze looked at the child's mother, Harley detected affection for the redhead as well.

What the hell happened between these two?

Harley found herself confused. Showing emotion was dangerous in this profession, yet Freeze revealed it willingly. He was confident enough with his emotions not to be afraid of the consequences of his actions. Either that, or he just did not care.

As Harley tiptoed out of the enclosure, she felt reluctance to part the father and baby.

 _Why can't we just let Flora's daddy hold her?_

 _Ivy is our friend … she has a reason …_

Ivy stopped Harley before she left. With a hand on her shoulder, Ivy simply shook her head. Harley instantly understood without any vocal confirmation. Ivy's instructions were clear; Harley was not to interrupt at any point.

Although she did not want to, Harley nodded in agreement. She would not interfere.

 _Well, only circumstantially …_

Harley heard nothing as she left the scene, the vines enclosing the space as soon as she stepped out. However, Harley knew from experience that words would be exchanged as soon as she was out of earshot.

Taking off in a split second after she left her friend, Harley raced up the stairs so fast she almost tripped. She slowed down remembering the cargo in her arms, but still maintained a quickened pace. Climbing up the series of balconies and catwalks overlooking the enclosure below, she kept her ears open as she placed Damian in his playpen. After giving him a pacifier and a toy, she laid Flora down in her special cradle that made sure to keep her cool. A flip of a switch on the device in the corner raised the wrought-iron gate to close them inside, vines materializing around it for reinforcement.

Knowing the children were safe from harm, Harley turned straight around and bolted down the catwalk. Curiosity and concern fueling her movements, Harley raced over the metal grates, making sure to move as quietly as possible.

Ivy instructed Harley not to interfere, but that did not mean Harley could not watch. Eavesdropping was not her motivation, but she did not want Ivy to be alone.

There had to be a reason Ivy kept her baby from its father.

 _Especially one as nice as him …_

With only seconds to spare, Harley jumped from platform to platform, skipping over the stairs to speed along her movements. Finally landing on the ground, she found herself in the small space Ivy loaned to her for her use while she stayed in the greenhouse. Pulling out the duffel bag from under the bed, she overturned it onto the overly floral mattress. The colorful pieces of cloth that tumbled out contained an array of patterns and fabrics, but Harley used a few factors to make her selection.

Cat had the tendency to get carried away with her designs; usually she leaned towards flashiness and femininity over usefulness.

She pulled on sturdier, albeit more flashy, underwear as she changed her clothes. Fishnet may not be the more practical selection, but it was much more useful than the piles of frills Harley passed over.

Harley grinned when she saw the tiny red diamonds on the behind of the tiny black denim shorts that she pulled on over her fishnet stockings.

 _Cat thinks of everything …_

After pulling on long boot socks, she attached them to the frayed hemline of her shorts. After wrapping the sporty red halter around her breasts, she pulled on a loose white mesh crop top, the fabric revealing more than it covered. Its overstretched neckline and armholes showed absolutely everything underneath, and barely stayed on her figure. However, a pair of flashy red and black diamond-patterned suspenders held her entire outfit in place.

She only paused to pull on her black and red combat boots before loading her guns with a click. She refused to wear heels today.

 _Guns with this outfit, really?_

 _This is supposed to be "Boxer Harley" …_

 _Hey, I ain't messing around with this guy!_

Placing the flashy gold pistols into the holsters under her arms, Harley began heading back to her friend before she was even finished changing. Pulling fingerless leather gloves over her hands, she grabbed a belt of bullets while slipping through the doorway.

The last thing she did after fastening the belt around her hips was smear lipstick and eyeshadow on her face, not being as delicate as normal. However, she found that she liked the uncleanness.

It made her look even more unpredictable.

Harley neglected her hair as she ran back to the scene, knowing that her loose pigtails were hopeless at that point. The relaxed look suited the rest of the outfit anyway. She climbed back up to the catwalk, pulling herself up with a flip before taking a look around. She bolted back from where she came, and used her arms to anchor her as she stampeded around the corners.

 _Okay … what's the plan?_

 _We get back to Ivy and beat the crap out of Freeze._

 _Why?_

 _I … don't know …_

 _Bad idea … we like Freeze, remember?_

 _Oh yeah … what are we gonna do about Leni?_

 _What about Leni?_

 _You gonna go help her?_

 _Yeah, she's over there … it looks like she's bleeding …_

 _What?!_

* * *

HxJ

JxH

* * *

"It is not part of a true culture to tame tigers, any more than it is to make sheep ferocious." – Henry David Thoreau

* * *

HxJ

JxH

* * *

Earlier that morning …

* * *

HxJ

JxH

* * *

Ring.

Click.

"LENI! You called!"

Sigh.

"Hey, Harley."

"Hello! It's so good to hear from you! How are you?"

Pause.

Grumble.

"Exhausted."

"Oh?"

"Let's just say, these past few days have been interesting."

"How so?"

Grumble.

"I don't want to talk about it. I called for another reason. Now Harley, I need you to be honest with me."

"Okay, sure!"

" … did you buy me a Bugatti?"

"Oooo … fancy. What makes you ask?"

"Because this delivery person just dropped off a brand new Bugatti and had _me_ personally sign for the keys. I don't want to know how he found me ..."

"Did he sing, the delivery guy?"

Sigh.

" … yes—badly, I might add."

"Oh no, he said he had a good singing voice—I may have to dock his tip."

"His _voice_ wasn't bad …"

"Okay, good! So, do you like it?"

Groan.

"Harley, this car is more expensive than my tuition. How the hell am I supposed to keep anyone from stealing it?"

"I made sure to include the luxury package—it will only recognize you!"

" … wonderful."

Giggle.

"Oh, Leni honey … can't you smile for me? I wanted to give you something for your birthday. You only turn eighteen once."

Pause.

Sigh.

"Is that what this is for?"

Laugh.

"Did someone forget her own birthday?"

Groan.

"No, I just didn't think anyone else remembered."

"Of course I remembered—Ivy pitched in for your present too. And I highly doubt Cat can ever forget that day …"

"Yeah, I know, I know … "

"Some jerk decided to cut open her belly and cut you out before leaving her for dead in an alley! That's not something you forget!"

Sigh.

"And you'd think she'd stop reproducing after that …"

"Still sore about that, huh?"

Silence.

"Don't be so mad—you have a baby brother! And he's so cute!"

"Damian's not the issue here. He can't even talk yet."

Pause.

"Hm … Did Cat tell you _why_? Why she won't let you see him—you know, your old man?"

"No. Do _you_ know why she won't let me?"

"Not exactly. You know _who_ he is, right?"

Groan.

"Hard not to. They're usually quiet, but I can still hear it when he comes by. Hard not to know it's him when he comes in through the top window of a sky-scraper."

"He visits her at home?"

"Yep, at night. At least he used to."

"Oooo … naughty Kitty-Cat."

Pause.

"Does … he know you exist? Your dad?"

"We met once—in plain clothes. He didn't know who I was, but I recognized him. Cat introduced me as her "relative". I don't think he knew I was living there. That was ... five years ago, I think."

"You'd be amazed what men don't notice—even the so-called world's best detective. Hm … but, he knows nothing about Damian?"

"Well, considering she hasn't let him in the apartment for over a year, I'd call that a yes."

Pause.

Longer pause.

"So … why do _you_ think Cat won't tell him about you two?"

"I don't know—part of me doesn't even want him to know. The other part of me just wants Cat to be honest with me."

"What do you mean?"

Grumble.

"Okay, here it is; those two have had an off-and-on kind of thing. Does that make sense?"

"Well, with the way Cat is …"

"Exactly. But for a little while until before Damian was born, they were publicly dating—you know, not just screwing. Flowers, chocolates, jewelry … the whole deal."

"Really? Cat never said a thing … "

"You disappeared for quite a while Harley, remember?"

"Oh yeah …"

"Cat's become a big deal with her last few lines, you know. Her designs are very much in demand. She's been mostly just doing _real_ work. And to be honest, this last week was the first time she suited up in a long time."

"Whoa! Cat not stealing? Is she sick?"

"I don't know. I'd hoped she was going relatively straight—as much as humanly possible while still working for you-know-who—"

"Touché."

"—so all the things she was doing would look good for him."

"You thought … she was changing herself to make herself better for him?"

"Yeah, she was bending over backwards for _him._ All of it was for him. He's apparently a big deal, right?"

"Uh … does all the legally earned money in Gotham make a big deal? Then, yeah … he's a big deal. He was hoity-toity when he was a kid too."

"Wait, you know … _who_ he really is?"

"Yeah—did you not know that?"

"Did I not know that you knew?"

Pause.

"Wait, what?"

"Focus Aunt Harley—you know _his_ real identity?"

"Yes, yes. I met him when I was … ten, I think. Yeah, I was ten."

"Ten? How old was _he_?"

"Well, Cat said he was a little more than a year younger than her …"

Groan.

"No wonder she didn't tell him about me."

"What do you mean?"

"How do you tell your billionaire boyfriend that you've been hiding his kid that he fathered when he was not even… what is it, fourteen?"

Giggle.

"Not even legal at that point … either of them, so I guess no law was broken."

"Harley!"

"I'm still here, calm down. You were getting to your point? About Cat cleaning herself up?"

Sigh.

"Yes. As I was saying, I think he was getting serious."

Pause.

"What kind of serious? Like a ring serious?"

"Yes, that kind of serious."

"Really?! Kitty-Cat almost got married? Oh, how fun! But what happened?"

"That's the tricky part. Cat did all this stuff to look good for him, and she never even gave him a chance to ask."

"How come?"

"Cat had this visitor—real shady guy. Cat was afraid of him. Next thing I know, she tells me to lay low and she's gone for about two weeks. When she comes back, she's a wreck for a week, and refuses to let you-know-who see her—I'm pretty sure they had a big fight. It was real quiet around here for a while. After that, I found her heaving her guts out when I came home one day. Without telling me, she took off and disappeared for a few more months."

"Wait, months?"

"Yeah, she didn't come back until after Damian was born."

"Didn't she even tell you where she was?"

"No. _He_ didn't know either—was apparently looking all over the city for her, just like me. It was like she dropped off the face of the planet."

"Okay, so Cat disappeared. And she came back with Damian?"

"Yep. That was September. She's locked herself in the apartment since then. She never comes out. I don't think Damian's ever been outside … until the other day anyway. Now we have all those assassins nipping at our toes."

"About that … who were all those ninja people?"

"Cat won't tell me. All I know is that they're trouble. Now she's determined to keep Damian a secret from everybody. Things would be so much easier if she just told him—you know … my _dad._ God, that's hard to say. But he could really help. Do you know Cat won't even let me open the blinds or windows when I visit?"

"Wait a second … she's hiding Damian from your dad, _and_ these other people?"

"It's either one or the other. And she won't tell me why—she won't tell me who they are either."

Pause.

"Hm … does she not tell your dad because she doesn't want _him_ to know, or because she doesn't want the other people to know?"

"What do you mean?"

"There's only one reason to hide a baby from it's dad, kiddo—for its own protection. Well, except with your case—she thought he was dead at that point …and then afterward it was just really awkward."

"Your point?"

"What would _he_ do if he knew about Damian? What do you think?"

Sigh.

"The only reason he didn't pop the question was because she's been avoiding him. I'm pretty sure he'd make her move in with him, with Damian of course."

"And that would be a big deal, wouldn't it? Someone as high profile as him with a secret love child? That won't remain a secret for long if they're both living there. News would travel fast—then who knows what would happen when that secret is exposed to the world?"

Pause.

"You're saying Cat did this because Damian's _safer_ without him knowing? These guys are after a _baby_?"

"Well, probably not much safer anymore … those people we got rid of probably work for someone. They'll know something's up when they don't come back."

Tisk.

"Damnit … why didn't I realize Damian was the target all along …? So that's where Cat is … "

"Is she missing again?"

"She went off to look into something; you got as much of an explanation as I did."

"What about you? Where are you?"

"Laying low again—she told me not to go back to the apartment for a while."

"Did she say how long she'd be gone?"

Pause.

"Only a few days. Why?"

" … Cat's definition of a few days is usually about three. It's been more than five."

Silence.

"Um …"

"You think something's wrong?"

"I think you need to get over here as fast as possible. We probably need to move Damian."

Pause.

Grumble.

"What is it, Leni?"

"I … may have an idea."

"What do you mean? An idea about what?"

"You're gonna have to trust me; I just have to figure a few things out …"

"Like what?"

Chuckle.

"Remember when I said I was busy the last few days?"

"Kinda …"

"Well, I wasn't exactly studying."

"Huh?"

"Question—how do you get a guy to stop following you?"

Pause.

"You mean, besides beating the shit out of him? Well, I had sex with one ... that immobilize 'em pretty good."

Sigh.

"Beating the the crap out of him it is."

"Wait, who are you beating up?"

"Someone … extremely annoying, who happens to have bad taste in head gear."

"That doesn't tell me much …"

* * *

HxJ

JxH

* * *

"If the mountain won't go to Mohammed, Mohammed will go to the mountain." – Yiddish Saying

* * *

HxJ

JxH

* * *

Back to "Some time earlier" …

* * *

HxJ

JxH

* * *

Had Harley not been running around like a headless chicken, she probably would have noticed the indigo-clad girl crouched over the railing a little sooner.

Lilac eyes peered out from behind her signature pointed mask, this one compact against her skin to be worn under a helmet.

The sturdy, stretchy fabric that covered her limbs was a signature invention—complements of their favorite thief. Flexible enough to make into any shape, yet strong enough to deflect bullets, the teenager was practically covered with the stuff.

The bodysuit that encased her figure cut off at the top of her hips, designed for maneuverability. The piece could be mistaken for a bathing suit in normal circumstances. However, the presence of a rather flashy strap-encased utility belt around her hips and a long thick cape draped over her shoulders took that all away. The deep indigo that encased her body looked almost black in the dim light.

Wheezing as she gripped her rib-cage with her opposite arm, she used her free hand to hold herself in a standing position. The heels on her thigh-high boots were not high, but it took a lot out of her to remain on her feet. Normally the neckline on her outfit was more modest, but it seemed to be falling off, nearly compromising her modesty.

A trickle of red liquid emerged from her plum-colored lips. "Hey Harley," she laughed weakly.

"Leni!" Harley exclaimed, bolting to the creature she helped to raise.

Harley caught Helena as she fell onto the ground before she hit the ground too hard. Reduced to her knees, the only thing holding her up was the hand grasping the railing. As Harley held her, the teenager only chuckled as she winced, obviously in extreme pain. "Good to see you too," she bit out.

Instincts kicking in, Harley's attention went straight for Helena's side. The dark, damp stain pooling around her rib-cage grew as Harley attempted to look at her injury. "What happened? Who did this?"

Helena shook her head, free hand against the metal grate holding her upright—even if that was on her knees. "No one important—weren't aiming at me," she panted. "Minor setback."

"Minor setback?!" Harley exclaimed, pulling Helena to her feet, throwing her arm over her shoulder. "Is that a bullet wound?"

Harley gripped her around the waist as she began walking her through the greenhouse. Helena nodded. "Just grazed me—I already sewed it …"

As soon as Harley had a good grip on the girl, Harley felt her indigo curls fall over her own shoulder.

 _She passed out!_

 _Oh shit!_

 _No-no-no-no-no-no!_

"Damn it, Leni," Harley winced as she caught the girl's limp form. "Do not die on me, you hear me?!" she hissed at her unconscious form.

Half carrying, half dragging the younger girl through the greenhouse, Harley finally managed to get Helena to one of Ivy's laboratories towards the front. This one lacked the pulsing test tubes, but still had an empty concrete slab of a table in the middle. Harley pulled the girl onto the table and immediately propped her head up with one of Ivy's spare lab coats. It definitely had enough frills to support her head.

Busting open the cabinet, Harley pulled out a few boxes of supplies. She hardly noticed the amount of things falling to the floor or the blood on her hands as she unclasped the belt around Helena's waist. Harley removed enough cloth to get a clear look at the wound.

Indeed, a few sutures were already in place.

Jagged and unclean, they managed to prevent the girl from bleeding out completely and get her butt back to her friends.

 _She did a good job …_

 _As good as possible, anyway …_

 _All things considering …_

Injecting a solution to aid the blood clotting, Harley immediately stuck an intraveinous needle into the girl's arm to supply her with more of the life-supplying red fluid. All of their merry little group made the habit of regularly stocking their cabinents with their own blood—in cases such as this.

 _Never had to use Leni's before …_

 _The wound's not that bad … we just can't tell Cat …_

 _Yeah, like ever!_

As soon as Harley had the teenager's vitals in place, she began to open and then reclose the wound properly this time. Harley found scorched flesh around the opening—a clear sign that a bullet burned its way to her bloostream. However, the hole was neither deep nor contained said bullet. Helena's conclusion of a graze was sound.

Harley knew her hands were rough and twitchy, completely out of practice in this area. The last time she sewed up flesh, it was on a cadaver. Only Harley's main concern surrounded the girl on the table, and making sure she stayed alive. Harley knew Cat would forgive her for a little roughness.

Before Harley finished, Helena twitched.

Without warning, the teenager bolted up to a sit, and Harley held her hands up to restrain her. "Whoa there!" she exclaimed. "Don't move, you've lost too much blood!"

Helena refused to lay back down, but did not move to a stand. "Harley, we need to move!" she suddenly exclaimed, worry in her eyes.

"No, you need to stay still," Harley insisted. "You're in no condition to go anywhere."

Harley finished her last stitch, but Helena prevented her from doing it properly. It would heal just fine, but might leave a nasty scar. Harley pushed her down again as she wrapped gause around the girl's waist, holding it down around the wound.

Helena took a hold of Harley's wrist firmly. "Harley—listen to me," she commanded. "We need to leave. Where's Ivy? We all need to get out of here!"

Harley's brow wrinkled. "What—?"

"I was followed!" Helena responded before she could get her whole question out.

Helena relaced her own clothing, pulling the stiff fabric tightly around her waist. The article held its wearer in place like vintage-styled undergarments with a girdle to hold everything in place in addition to offering protection. Although her hands shook and she let out a cry with her movements, she held a serious expression.

"They're coming," she gritted from a clenched jaw.

Harley had a sinking feeling in her gut. "They?"

At the sound of a few distinct thumps on the roof above them, Harley looked up to see several shadows scurrying across the ceiling.

Harley's eyes widened.

 _Shit._

The blonde looked back to Helena. "Who are _they,_ Leni?"

Helena sighed, pulling herself back onto the floor with a sarcastic smile. "The bats do not like it when you take a bullet for someone they don't like … " she laughed to herself.

Harley gawked at the teenager like a carp fish. "You did what?!"

 _Bats?_

 _As in, more than **one**?_

 _Oh crap, that's the last thing we need!_

A crunch and sickening thud came before an entire section of the ceiling instantaneously shattered.

Harley reacted out of instinct; she pulled Helena down onto the ground, placing herself on top of her in order to shield the girl. The large shards of glass rained down from the heavens, covering the entire expanse of the greenhouse. Shrieking filled the air, the vines covering the ceiling groaning as they were ripped apart by the figures that came crashing down from above.

 _Good thing we put the plants on high alert with the kids …_

… thunk, _thunk, **thunk** , **THUNK**!_

The figures that landed on the various platforms around the room were of equally various size and shape, in addition to color.

Harley dared to look up after all the glass settled.

Firstly, Harley saw a flash of red, green and yellow adorning the smallest of figures that entered the building. His cape only came down a little above his knees, and his head was completely bare with the exception of the mask covering his eyes. His black hair spiked up around him in a modern style. A gleaming upper-case "R" emblazoned his uniform. Harley noted his young age, lining up with his small build and stature. This little sprite immediately jumped up to crouch on one of the railings and look around.

 _He's what … ten? How young is he recruiting these guys?_

The next figure dropping down behind this boy wore a rather feminine color. Although covered completely in black, the deep purple accents were almost magenta in color. One would assume the feminine color clashed with the flaming orange hair falling out of the back of this girl's cowl. But the almost magenta bat covering the expanse of her chest only went with all the little colors along her sleeves and legs. The only female in the group actually wore a skirt under her floor-length cape, albeit with leggings underneath. Unlike the boy, her mask was completely attached to her face and featured a pair of pointy ears on the top. Her first action was to take a defensive stance and scan the territory behind her shorter companion.

 _She's no older than Leni …_

Thirdly, the only figure without a cape jumped down and landed next to the new redhead. The bright blue design adorning his chest matched the female's in shape, and despite the fact that he stood at least a head taller than the girl, Harley noticed from the outline of his physique he had yet to be fully grown. His own short ebony locks fell into his face, but did not hide the blue-accented mask covering his upper face. He flipped down as he landed on his feet with a crouch, pulling a pair of electrified batons from his back.

 _Hey … isn't he supposed to be in Blüdhaven?_

Harley's thought pattern cut off as the final figure dropped down with the loudest entrance.

 _So, that's Leni and Damian's daddy, hm?_

The Dark Knight had a truly domineering and terrifying presence. Dressed entirely in black and deep, deep gray, his broad figure towered over his three protegees. The Bat stood hunching his shoulders forward to engulf his entire figure beneath the long flowing length of his cloak of a cape, face almost completely covered by the cowl that only showed the contours of his mouth. The extent of his shadow became even more menacing with the accent of his own set of pointy ears emerging from his cowl.

 _Damn._

 _Mysterious and sexy …_

 _No wonder he makes Cat purr …_

Harley stiffened from her position on the floor, clutching the girl in her arms. The two of them were a good distance away, and tucked into Ivy's lab there was little chance of this group seeing them—Ivy designed the space for such a task. The newcomers could not see the pair, however the danger was still quite evident.

"One, two … three? How many ankle-biters does your dad need?" Harley hissed into Helena's ear.

Slumped over on her good side, Helena raised her head, pushing back the indigo strands of her wig. "Apparently, not enough," she bit out, holding her side.

 _Did you see what they did to the ceiling … ?_

 _Ivy's gonna kill us …_

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(Author's Note: Please, be gentle with me!

Last chapter, a few of you brought up my writing style. I attempted to improve it with this chapter. I originally planned to go back and revise every chapter after the story itself is completed. More or less, I consider my writing to be a living organism that adapts over time. But I wanted to get the entire essence of the story out before I tweaked the little details. I know they are important, but I guess I knew that I could go back and make revisions so I placed that aspect on the back-burner.

I gave you some Mr. J! Please take the consolation gift! Yes, it was not much, but I really tried to put him in this chapter a little more, it just didn't work out. The Joker has his own presence; I can't just drop him in any scene I want. You don't know how much I wrote for this chapter that I cut out or decided to reserve for later-more than twenty pages.

I even had a lot more Ivy and Freeze content (cause I know you all are dying to know what happened with them), but I cut it out when I realized it was a distraction from our protagonist; Harley. This is Harley's story, I need to focus on her and her actions.

But, yay! Bats have entered the building! Finally!

Yes, yes, I've been introducing a new character almost every chapter, and our cast is getting a little cluttered. I clustered these guys together because I thought it would be more appropriate for them to work as a group in Harley's mind. This time I added a grand total of four. I must admit that even I do not like it, but I assure you that I am doing it for a reason. Each character I selected has their own role, and are important to the story.

On that note, I have a question for all of you to get you thinking about the future; What do you think Helena was doing in her absence? I left a few hints in the story, but the devious side of me likes to leave you guys hanging so you'll come back for more. She did mention a guy. And she said she took a bullet for someone the bats don't like. I'll leave that for you to ponder.

Thank you once again for reading this story. I am so appreciative of all the feedback I receive, and I truly value your opinions. I cannot improve without constructive criticism.

Please review! I would like to hear what you liked about this chapter!)

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	8. Chapter 8

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Pygmalion

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Chapter Eight

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 _"_ _Chaos is the score upon which reality is written."_ ― Henry Miller

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 _This is bad!_

 _This is very bad!_

 _How do we get rid of these guys?_

Harley knew that she had been in worse situations, but at that moment in time she could not think of one.

The blonde had a grand total of three parties to worry about. Two of them could not talk, and one was potentially bleeding out entirely. On top of all that, four skin-tight clad masked vigilantes just arrived via literally crashing through the ceiling.

That was why, in that very moment, Harley tried desperately to prevent herself from panicking.

Too bad the voices in her head did _not_ heed this.

They were currently each experiencing their own individual meltdowns.

While the one voice jumped up and down in a small fit, another sat curled up in the corner rocking back and forth. Another took up the whole space by running around like a headless chicken and screaming, and one more just collapsed after bursting into tears.

At least, those were the noisiest ones of the bunch.

For half an instant, Harley's thoughts radiated towards how voices moved inside her head, but those notions were completely forgotten; she had other things to worry about.

The sinking feeling inside the blonde's gut intensified as soon as her brain recognized the eminent threat upon her present sanctuary. Not only had the most notorious vigilante in all of Gotham—and maybe the entire word, if Harley remembered correctly—just crashed his looming black cloaked self through the ceiling.

The stories about him told no lies.

Dark and menacing, shadows seemed to surround him just because of his mere presence. He barely needed to move to display the awesome power he had over any situation. His main weapon was fear, and he did a terrific job in terrifying his opponent.

And the Batman was even nice enough to bring his … little ankle-biters.

 _All three of them._

 _Three, really?_

 _Isn't that a little obsessive?_

 _How many henchmen do we have?_

 _Henchmen and ankle-biters are completely different!_

The three shadows looming around the caped crusader loomed around him menacingly despite the diverse colors adorning their uniforms. As soon as the figures landed in the greenhouse, they sprang into action. The colorful sprite remained towards the rafters as he circled around the room, while the other two each took a different direction to follow and analyze. Finally, the man attraction of their troop took the center area of the space to cover.

The fact that a tremendous number of self-animated plants attacking them only seemed derailed them for a handful of seconds.

 _Yeah, we're in trouble …_

"Harley!" the teenager beside her hissed in a whisper.

The blonde snapped from her daze. Tearing her eyes away from the caped crusader and his group as they fought with the greenery, she looked back to the girl in her arms. Thankfully, this little troupe of vigilantes decided to move in all directions but theirs.

 _How did we forget about Leni?_

Still huddled over on her side, the younger girl clenched her teeth in pain between her pauses to speak.

"Harley," she repeated in an exhale, suppressing a groan as she attempted to remove weight from her injured side. Despite her pain, the younger girl gave Harley a direct glare before her next demand. "Where's Damian?"

 _Oh shit!_

 _She does have a point!_

Harley glanced back in the direction of the fortified loft hovering in the distance.

The very person that Harley had been watching for nearly the past week was still upstairs. Despite his mother remaining so adamant about his mere existence kept secret, the baby in question now lay in danger of being discovered. Harley looked from the group of masked vigilantes to where she had left Helena's younger brother. The small cocoon of branches, vines and iron floated securely in the corner. However, this little nest hovered only about a dozen yards away from the masked intruders.

They were close, too close.

Without another word, Harley climbed to her feet and carefully yet quickly pulled the younger girl up with her. Throwing Helena's arm over her shoulder, Harley practically hugged the girl to steady her figure.

Harley had so many questions, but there was absolutely no time for them.

 _Less talking, more moving._

 _If Leni says to move, we move!_

Answers would come soon.

However, as soon as Harley brought Huntress onto her feet, the blonde strained when the teenager's weight gave way. Helena's feet fell from under her; she clung to the table she had been lying upon only moments before as she returned to the floor. Harley bit her lip at the delay, but realized there was nothing for her to do about it; setting aside the pain, the lack of blood was bound to make Helena too dizzy to stand.

Letting out exasperated gasps and panting deeply, it took Huntress several moments before she could speak. "Ow," was the only thing that escaped her lips.

To examine her properly, Harley released the dark-haired girl and knelt beside her. Helena only threw her head back slightly as Harley's fingers met Helena's side. Huntress seethed in pain, clenching her teeth as she grasped the table like a lifeline.

Harley felt her eyes widen as she took in the steady increase of the red stain on the girl's uniform. "Leni, this is bad!" she exclaimed.

She might be bleeding internally!

We can't move her!

A sudden panic set in on her mind. What could she do? Helena might die if Harley moved her, but leaving her there was not an option. But Damian was still upstairs! She needed to get to him! Him and—oh shit, Flora.

How could she have forgotten about her?

 _And Ivy? What about her?_

 _And Freeze …_

 _Wait … where is Ivy?_

Harley's eyes darted around the greenhouse towards the direction she had left Ivy. She saw nothing, and heard nothing but the shrieks of the plants that were battling the Batman and his little gang of sidekicks.

Ivy … was not attacking those invading her home.

Where was she?

Part of Harley realized that she should have been concerned about Ivy's location and lack of response, but the other part of her realized there were three others that needed her help. Two of them lacked the ability to even walk.

 _Well, three right now …_

The teenager winced as she held onto her side, teeth clenched to hold back her seething. Helena sat up straighter, leaning her neck back to stretch it.

She looked back to the blonde and smiled, but it was almost sarcastically. "Are we having fun yet?"

"Leni!" Harley hissed as she attempted to pick her up. What they needed in that instant was to get out of there, and lounging around was not part of the plan. "What are you doing?"

Helena let out another groan as she pulled out her crossbow from underneath her, looking more relieved that it no longer dug into her thigh than anything.

 _What the hell …?_

"Attempting to prevent myself from bleeding out," she answered stoically, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Moving won't help much."

Harley blinked at the girl with wide eyes. She seriously considered slapping the teenager upside the head.

"Harley," Helena then breathed. "Look, I need you to turn on the gates."

"But won't that trap us in here?"

"Just do it!"

Harley bit her lip, but then nodded in confirmation to the order.

Making sure to keep her head down, the blonde kept to her knees as she pulled herself over to the other side of the room. She was just so thankful this was the laboratory she chose. Once she found the wall she wanted, she pulled a lever hidden behind a vine only for both metal and leaves to start moving out of the way. Revealed on the other side was a very ancient-looking mechanized control panel that consisted of a series of levers and knobs.

 _Okay … which one was it again?_

 _We really, should have paid more attention to those instructions!_

 _Try the left—no, no, your other left!_

 _What are we even **doing**?!_

Harley's eyes finally landed on the biggest lever on the console. With one swift tug, she felt the metal slide into place. The gears beneath the console whined and moaned as electricity whizzed through the cables. Harley felt the ground beneath her vibrate as something else besides the plants came to life.

Metal screeched against metal as the series of terrifyingly pointy rows of teeth emerged from the ceiling. What was once elaborate wrought-iron fixtures lining the ceiling turned into heavy metal doors, sinking into the floors. The entire greenhouse became encased in almost a giant birdcage-like structure.

Turning back around, Harley noticed Huntress slumped over on the floor. With an "eep!", Harley sprang into action to get back to her side. She ran right up to the girl and wrapped her arms around her again, squeezing her tightly. Although it was a hug, it was more to analyze the girl's health than anything.

Feeling the small movements of her chest gave her so much relief.

 _Good, she's not dead!_

 _Now all we gotta do is find a vehicle!_

' _Vehicle'?_

 _Something with wheels and a motor—I ain't picky about specifics!_

"Aunt Harley, I don't mean to be rude, but could you get off me?" muttered the voice of the teenager in arms.

With a wince, Harley sprang back away from the girl. Maybe her grip was a just a little too tight.

However, the blonde could not contain her look of concern. "Harley," Helena finally breathed quietly. "Calm down."

Harley's jaw dropped.

 _Is she crazy!?_

She realized the girl before her lacked a great deal of blood to the brain, but that was no reason for such a lackluster response. Wasn't she worried at all?

"Calm down?!" the older female snapped. "What do you mean calm down, we—?!"

"Harley!" The teenager forced Harley to face her by taking the blonde's shoulder. "They're here for me."

Came here for her?

 _Damn, girl, what the hell did you do?_

 _We left her a week ago! How the hell did she get all this done so fast?_

 _Coming from someone who banged a guy she just met for five days straight …?_

 _That was_ _ **negotiation**_ _, and we are getting off the subject here!_

Helena paused to turn her head away, spitting blood from her mouth to clear her throat. Once she looked Harley in the eye again, she inhaled. Harley heard wheezing from the girl's mouth, and it hurt Harley to just sit there waiting for a response. Huntress needed serious medical attention, but that did not seem to be an option with their limited resources.

Huntress became serious before speaking. "I don't have much time to explain, but I need you to trust me and stop freaking out right now."

Harley looked at the girl in front of her, trying to deal with the multitude of emotions flooding her body. This was the little girl that Harley used to patch up after she scraped her knee. She was the giant crybaby who became upset when a spider was killed in front of her, and the worry-wort who feared she would be left alone when Cat was gone weeks at a time.

 _When did Leni grow up?_

Although Harley felt enormous pride, she also felt fear too.

 _So, what are we gonna do?_

 _Just leave Leni here—by herself!?_

 _What are we gonna do?_

 _We can't do that!_

 _She's dead if we move her._

 _What are we gonna do?_

 _Yeah, she's injured, right? They call themselves the good guys—maybe they won't hurt her._

 _Oh man … why did she have to give me such a decision?_

 _ **What**_ _are we gonna do!?_

It took only seconds for Harley to make up her mind.

"What do you need from me?" the blonde asked seriously.

Before Helena could get out a word, Harley felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Without even looking, she knew another presence entered the space. The feeling that someone was looking at her overwhelmed her senses, and the blonde reacted without thinking.

Instinctively, the urge to protect came over her and she took out both of her pistols. It took a matter of seconds for her to cock them as she turned around swiftly. As soon as she was ready, she prepared to fire.

However, she did not have the opportunity.

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 _"Don't stick your head in a wolf's mouth." – Yiddish Saying_

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Earlier ...

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Ring!

Ring!

Ri—!

Click.

"Hello!"

Groan.

"Hey … Aunt Harley … uh …"

Pause.

"Leni, is that you? Where are you, I thought you were coming over?"

 _Pause._

 _Sharp inhale._

 _"_ _I was—ah!—I am …"_

Low hiss.

"Uh … Leni, are you okay? You sound like you're in pain."

Pause.

Thump.

"Leni …?"

"Still here! Ugh … Still here …"

Longer pause.

Sharp inhale.

"It's … gonna take me a little longer to get over there … ah! Uh!—probably later tonight … ah …!"

Deep huff.

"Um … are you in a fight? You sound outta breath …"

Grunt.

Thump.

Pause.

Chuckle.

"That's one way of putting it …"

"So why are you calling me in the middle of it … don't you have your hands full?"

Pause.

Laugh.

"Not my hands …"

"Huh?"

"I'll explain late—er! Ugh! Damnit all to hell! You spawn of the—ugh!— ** _devil_** ..."

Moan.

Laugh.

"Leni? Are you sure you're okay? You're … laughing."

Groan.

"Ah!—and that's bad?"

"No … but weird. You are fighting, right?"

Pause.

Huff.

"Let's just say … ugh! … I took your advice …"

Longer pause.

"About … ?"

Groan.

"Remember our last conversation?"

"Of course."

"Well, I did …. _one_ of the things you suggested—ah! Worked a little ... too well … ugh!"

"Wait, what did I suggest?"

"Harley, I totally … huff … need to apologize … for _any critici **—SM!**_ … with how you handled you-know-who …"

"Uh …"

"I might … be longer than expected … Ah!"

Crackle.

Thump.

"Leni?"

Shuffle.

Faint muttering.

Deep laughter.

Click.

"Okay … that must be some hell of a fight …"

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"Flatter me, and I may not believe you. Criticize me, and I may not like you. Ignore me, and I may not forgive you. Encourage me, and I will not forget you. Love me and I may be forced to love you." ― William Arthur Ward

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Back to present ...

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The shot rang out and echoed through the space, the dense foliage around them absorbing the loud noise.

 _Huh?_

 _Wait, what just happened?_

 _Did we fire off a shot?_

 _Don't think so …_

Thump.

Harley jumped at the noise, looking away from her own gun that was still fully loaded. The thing was not even smoking either. Her attention drew to the black-clad figure that collapsed to the floor in front of her.

 _Oh no …_

 _How did they get in here?_

Harley instantly recognized the uniform of the foot soldiers she encountered several days before hand. Before Harley's hand could even squeeze the trigger, the ninja twitched. Blood materialized immediately around its throat, and began to drip out of the hole that emerged with it. The sound Harley heard was of this masked assailant then falling to the ground.

Once the ninja fell, another figure appeared who had been standing behind it.

This newcomer … was not who she was expecting.

 _This one's new …_

The first thing Harley noticed was his height.

He was tall, more than herself, but not freakishly so. Evenly proportioned and broad-shouldered, the bullet from his smoking automatic pistol fired off into the ninja almost too quickly. After shooting off the rounds, his hand lowered to his side to return the weapon to the holster on his waist. Harley noticed the sparkling glint of silver at the newcomer's wrist.

 _What an interesting outfit …_

 _Wonder who does his tailoring …_

The leather motorcycle vest fit to his overly muscular torso like a glove, the black of the fabric around the base of the hem faded up into a deep blood red as it traveled closer to his shoulders. What Harley found unique intriguing about his jacket was how short it was cut around his torso, revealing snippets of his skin underneath.

The wide lapel of the collar framed the contours of his bare shoulders underneath. His pale skin was decorated with a strangely beautiful array of tribal symbol tattoos. They stretched all over his chest and neck, clutching him like twisted claws.

Harley could not identify the material that formed his pants, but they could have been mistaken for regular black denim if it was not for the fact that they appeared bullet-proof. Held on with a series of straps and chains, his studded boots looked heavy enough to kill with a single blow.

The fingerless gloves around his hands were in tatters, and Harley noticed the blood red and black rosary that was elegantly tied tightly around his right wrist. The beads appeared to be locked in placed with a small yet thick chain—hence the sparkling from earlier. His bare arms were covered from the elbows down to his palms with long strips of ripped black fabric wrapped like bandages.

The most distinctive thing about his ensemble was the startling drastic contrast of the bright red fabric surrounding his head and covering his face. The hood came down over his face to where his nose would have been, if it wasn't for the fact that there was something impeding Harley from seeing his face.

 _Who the hell is this guy …?_

It looked like a motorcycle helmet, but one that was custom made to form to his face. The opaque red material was completely solid.

It was then that Harley noticed something important in his other hand … or arm.

 _Damian …_

The baby sat contently in the young man's arm, suckling his pacifier quietly as he looked forward. If he was any older, Harley would have called his expression bored. He seemed to hold no fear towards this newcomer.

In regards to the newcomer, the hooded individual used his newly freed hand to lower the bright red cloth and press a button on the ostentatious helmet. The accessory folded back and away from his face, completely compressing into a shape much smaller than before. It turned into a metallic headband that encircled his forehead like an ancient crown.

Underneath this helmet, red face paint was smeared roughly around the span of his eyes to somewhat hide his appearance. The angular jaw of his face led Harley to the conclusion of his youth. He looked younger than Helena, but still very maturely formed for such an age.

As he came up to Harley, he smiled genuinely, but she could not help but feel there was a mischievous glimmer behind that smile. Harley saw a pair of gleaming red eyes merrily looking at her, only seeming to accent his already too perfect of a face.

The number of scars blanketing his facial features only seemed to improve his appearance. the ring in the side of his bottom lip was accented by the one in his eyebrow, and the silver crosses dangling from his ears. Jet black hair hung lazily in his eyes, a dramatic white streak highlighting his bangs. As he closed in on her, Harley could smell the distinct scent of tobacco radiating from his form. The tobacco was laced with a mix of cherries and chocolate.

He smirked at Harley before his red eyes turned on Huntress.

"This is your aunt?" he chuckled, his voice deep and smoky. Despite the roughness, his voice held a strangely hypnotic smoothness as well.

Helena winced as she rolled her eyes at his comment. "You have a point?"

Harley blinked.

 _Huh?_

 _Isn't she scared, at… all?_

Before Harley could open her mouth to get a word in, this stranger swiftly took a hold of Harley's hand, completely disregarding the guns in her grasp as he raised it to his lips to kiss the back. His grip was steady yet firm.

Harley restrained the blush.

 _Um …._

"Charmed," he introduced himself.

Without pausing, the hooded newcomer simply deposited little Damian in Harley's arms.

Harley knew her mouth gaped like a goldfish.

Who was this?

Harley took the baby, finding refusal not an option.

This newcomer then nodded his head to Harley, reminding her of a gentleman tipping his hat. Harley's attention drew to the streak of white in his hair. She found it odd. He was much too young to be going gray. Was it intentional? He looked around Helena's age. However, his blood red eyes revealed the soul of an old man. She noticed the bits of white in his eyebrows, especially where a chunk of hair refused to grow around a scar.

However, Harley quickly forgot about his appearance when he came up to the teenager sitting on the floor. He passed the blonde gracefully, swiftly changing the direction of his attention. Although his movements were quick, they also seemed very much relaxed at the same time.

With a swift yet gentle movement, he then knelt to one knee before the girl on the ground.

Silently, he gathered up Helena in his arms. His grip was tight around her as he brought her to a stand, and Harley noted the placement of his hands; while his one wrapped around her waist, the other rested rather high on Helena's thigh.

 _Hey there buddy!_

 _Where are touching our little Leni!?_

Huntress herself winced from movement. However, her expression was more out of annoyance than pain. Rolling her eyes, the newcomer's hand came up to pull her chin up to force her to look him in the eye. He pushed his body up against her own, almost crushing her against the table standing behind her as his shoulders lined up with her own.

"She looks nothing like you, Hellfire," he teased, using the back of his finger to caress the line of her jaw. Helena instantly pulled away from him, but remained limited by her injury and his hold on her.

 _Hellfire?_

 _Who the **hell** is ... Hellfire?_

Helena's brow wrinkled as she let out an exaggerated huff. "Did I said she was biologically related to me?"

The newcomer attempted to touch his forehead to hers, only Helena turned her head away with a snarl. Instead of looking annoyed himself, Harley noticed his eyes glisten with delight at her response. His grin increased as he chuckled and used the tip of his nose to nuzzle her cheek.

"She's as attractive as you though," he nearly growled into her ear.

Helena let out a distinctive noise of dissatisfaction, rolling her eyes again. Oddly enough, Helena squirmed a bit, but did not pull away. If she wanted, the teenager could have easily killed or disabled the young man holding her.

But, she left him be.

 _Uh …_

Harley still tried to wrap her head around the situation around her. She looked down to the bloody corpse on the floor, and then to the baby in her arms. She glanced over to the shrieking plants around them. Despite all the chaos surrounding them, Harley felt like she was in the center of a tear in the fabrics of reality.

The voices in her head were not calm.

 _What the hell is going on?_

 _What happened?_

 _Weren't we just gonna go … do something?_

 _And_ _ **who**_ _is this smooth-talker with his grubby mitts all over Leni!?_

Turning back to the couple in front of her, she noticed she probably should have been paying a little bit more attention.

Because, they she missed how this guy ducked his head down towards Helena's own and press his mouth to hers. Kiss was much too soft of a word to describe what this young man was doing to Helena's mouth.

Harley's mouth hit the proverbial floor.

 _Didn't she say she had no time or guys?_

 _Yeah, that was a week ago!_

 _Her words were, 'Guys are jerks most of the time.'_

 _Well, she obviously doesn't think that about_ _ **this**_ _one …_

That was it!

Harley decided to put her foot down.

Literally.

"Oi!" Harley yelled abruptly, the pair in front of her continuing to practically devour each other's mouths. She stomped her foot on the ground, mindful of the baby in her arms.

They … ignored her.

"Hey!" Harley exclaimed, becoming annoyed herself.

Finally, after a few more seconds, the two came up for air—however it was not to respond to Harley. This stranger holding Helena proceeded without a pause to reach down to her neck and start nibbling on it, perfectly content to continue with an audience beholding the spectacle.

Helena, the only one looking remotely embarrassed, glanced at Harley from her position. Her arms had come up to grip his shoulders, but only to steady herself.

"Hey Harley," she finally said. Through her embarrassment, she did not pull away. "This is awkward."

"Ya think!" Harley snapped, gesturing to the newest individual in front of them. "Who the hell is that?"

Helena winced a smile. "That's an … interesting story," she responded, biting her lip.

Harley's free hand went to her hip. "No … really?" she drawled sarcastically as she made sure Damian was secure in her other arm. "I'd love to hear this one—and who the hell do you think _you_ are ignoring me, buddy?!"

The focus of her question chuckled against skin. He was kissing Helena's neck now, and from the sounds emerging from the pair, suckling as well. "I like her," he grumbled into Helena's ear.

Helena rolled her eyes, arm moving to the table to hold herself up. She let him proceed, looking back to the blonde. "Harley … this idiot is, uh …"

"You can tell her," he cut in subtly.

"… okay yeah, this is Jason," Helena introduced and gestured to him with her free hand. He did not stop his ministrations, but did lift his hand from Helena's thigh to wave at Harley. "And for lack of a better term, he's what you might call my fiancé."

Harley felt her eyes widen.

" _WHAT_!?"

 _Well, that does explains a lot …_

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(Author's Note:

He, he, he ... you all might want to reread the second part of this chapter ...*wink*

Now.

Onto business.

Please, please ... please! Be gentle with me.

Yes, I know ... no Mr. J. I really, really need to apologize. During my last update, when I wrote that he would be in this chapter, I was not lying ... however, things just got in the way. I ... kinda changed my mind. I'm extremely sorry.

The little devil of creativity came and bit me in the behind, so that is one of the reasons for my delay with this chapter. On that note, yes, it is late ... I hope not too much though. This chapter is much shorter than my previous ones, but that is because I'm giving you the condensed version. I wanted to give you something, even if it is not much. Many of you are foaming at the mouth for more, and I felt I should give you guys a little piece even if it is not a lot.

Reason for delay? Well, I have many.

To make it brief, I will give you a short list; school, work, change in weather, family, friends, minor spells of illness, and my stupid country (Don't even get me started ... For all of you who don't know, my parents decided to have me born in the USA. Enough said. Period.)

Anyway, enough with that ... on to the real reason for my note.

Now, more about my delay for this chapter.

I planned for Huntress to be doing one thing "behind the scenes", and then something changed my mind. Her actions influence what she would be doing in this scene, so I rewrote it ... a lot.

I had a _huge_ dilemma with what to do next (caught between a rock and a hard place), because there are going to be so many players and pieces in this story. I know, I'm shooting myself in the proverbial foot by complicating matters, but it's something I enjoy. Needless to say, I got a little too wrapped up with my subplots, and I realized that I need to be focusing on Harley.

Harley, Harley, Harley.

This is her story after all.

Once again, thank you for reading my story. Again, I'm sorry about no Mr. J. He will be coming back soon and sticking around for quite a while, if that's any comfort.)

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	9. Chapter 9

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Pygmalion

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Chapter Nine

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"Jealousy is the tie that binds, and binds, and binds." ― Helen Rowland

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 _Why can't you listen to simple instructions?_

 _I'm crazy, remember?_

 _Yeah,_ _ **we**_ _should know that …_

Harley stood frozen in place. Her heart jumped around inside her chest, a million and one thoughts running through her mind. She felt the horrible urge to start running around, and her legs and her feet just itched to do so. But she remained rooted in place.

Running was not wise.

Words escaped her. Even if she wanted to speak, her brain was way too overloaded to process moving her mouth. The scene happening in front of her was so fragile, she was certain the slightest sound would cause the ultimate disaster.

And then Harley really would become the worst babysitter ever.

The silence allowed the blonde to analyze the situation. If the scene was not to terribly horrifying, there was a chance it could have been very funny.

Harley stood in the center of the room, her back facing one of the many walls of greenery that made up the barriers of the greenhouse that doubled as her best friend's home. Even though her golden pistols were nicely resting in the holsters under her arms, she made absolutely no movement to grab them.

Guns would only make the situation worse.

The mystical mistress of plants herself sat directly next to Harley. The redhead sat with her back rigidly against the chair back, seeing as her entire torso was strapped down rather tightly to the piece of furniture. Ivy's arms lay twisted behind her rather uncomfortably, her hands chained together—the chains linked to her feet as well as the metal grate of a floor beneath her form. Lastly, a rather prominently wide cloth wrapped around her mouth.

Normally, seeing as she was bound and gagged, the look in Ivy's green eyes would have been glaring daggers. However, of what Harley could see of Ivy's expression seemed to reflect the way. Her eyes were opened wide and her jaw was clenched.

It did not take knowing Ivy to know she felt a truly unsettling fear.

Harley felt the same way.

Well, it was more like nervousness, but Harley was still very much afraid.

Amongst the people standing in front of her, one stood hovering in the corner that lay closest to the room's entrance. An almost mist-like fog seemed to hover around the starkly white silhouette of the long-haired hooded man.

The cryogenics scientist looked rather serious, an almost frown marring his handsome features. Mr. Freeze glanced over to the person standing beside him, letting out a sigh that sounded almost bored.

"Do we really have time for this?" he asked in a drawl.

As if to add emphasis to his impatience, Freeze readjusted the package in his arms; the green-skinned little girl whom Harley had been looking after the last several days. Baby Flora was asleep in her father's arms, wrapped up in a special blanket. The partially metal and glowing fabric looked oddly baby-friendly despite its obvious cold-generating features.

The person to whom Freeze directed his question stood front and center in the room, standing out as prominent as always.

Bright neon green hair stood out even against all the vines surrounding them. Adorning a pair of broad shoulders was a long plum-colored trench coat. As the pale, tattooed individual turned around, light highlighted the natural indentations in the crocodile-skin material of his coat.

The moment he completely turned around Harley got a better look at him.

The nearly transparent white silk cloth of his button-down shirt gleamed with golden threads streaming through the fabric every so often. The piece was almost completely unopened, as if the stark black tattoos on his skin did not have enough space for breathing. Only a few stray buttons were fastened towards his stomach. Golden chains emerged from his belt loop and around his hip. Despite the unruly façade, not a single thing seemed out of place.

Steely eyes turning onto Harley for the first time, crimson lips remained closed as he smiled only ever so slightly.

His expression was annoyingly smug.

Harley felt his gaze fall directly on hers.

"You'll have to forgive him," the Joker muttered calmly, gesturing to Freeze. "He's just so impatient."

The blonde remained silent. She refrained from even blinking. An unsettling queasiness developed in the pit of her belly.

That only happened when she was nervous … _really_ nervous.

 _Well, if you want to be nervous, this is a good time!_

The Joker was not Harley's source of worry.

It was the baby that was in his arms.

Joker must have noticed Harley's attention turned towards the infant. He looked back down to the child, almost bouncing him as he adjusted him to the other side of his body. The infamous gang boss looked rather amused with the dark-haired infant.

Surprisingly, the baby in question did not seem to fear the homicidal criminal holding him.

Damian simply sat there, glancing around the room while sucking on his pacifier.

The clown let out a hiss that resembled a 'tisk' sound as he turned to glance over at the scientist in the corner. "Oh, Vicky … always rushing," he sighed, shaking his head. "Don't you want to find out who our last guest is?"

Joker nodded to the baby, raising a free hand to slightly tickle his chin.

Damian wrinkled up his nose and pulled away, but did not begin to cry.

Obviously, this child had nerves of steel.

 _More like titanium!_

 _Yeah … just like his daddy …_

 _Speaking of Daddy … we_ _ **cannot**_ _let these two know who he is!_

 _Most definitely!_

Harley glanced down to her friend, attempting to silently share a look with the plant mistress. Ivy did not turn her head, seeing as the woman seemed too occupied with looking at the father of her child.

Obviously, assistance was not coming from her. She had her own problems.

Freeze let out a small sigh, a slightly amused smirk on his face as he rolled his eyes. "Proceed," he mused.

Joker smiled a little wider. "Good man," the clown breathed, sounding genuinely tolerant of the younger man.

As he turned around to face the two women, the green-haired man continued to coddle the infant he held, showing absolutely no sign of malevolence or ill will.

"So, ladies," he started before turning his gaze on Harley and Harley alone. "Who might this little one be?"

Harley swallowed.

No matter what she said … the result was not going to be good.

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 _"_ _Not only do I not know what's going on, I wouldn't know what to do about it if I did."_ _ **―**_ _George Carlin_

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Several Moments Earlier …

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 _You know … I think I_ _ **said**_ _that I thought that phone call was strange …_

 _But_ _ **no**_ _… Leni could never be doing something like that …_

 _Would you all just shut up right now?!_

Harley did not restrain her surprise at the scene unraveling before her.

"He's … _your_ … _**what**_!?" the blonde hissed.

Nor did she restrain her disdain.

The brunette teenager in front of her let out an exaggerated sigh. She did not push away the dark-clad young man holding her firmly, merely breathed harshly as she tried to smile. "It's a very … very long story," she huffed out softly.

Harley made a face. "I'd very much like to hear it!" she snapped under her breath, readjusting the baby in her arms.

The dark-haired infant only blinked. Apparently, Damian seemed content with wrapping his pudgy little fingers around Harley's pigtail.

Despite the bomb just dropped by the teenager before her, Harley was doing her very best to remain as quiet as possible.

The older sister of the infant in Harley's arms just announced that not only did she make a 'friend' while she was gone, but she made a very _good_ friend. And considering the last conversation that Harley had with her most beloved niece, Huntress had been engaging in activities that were a little more than G-rated.

 _Do we gotta castrate somebody?_

 _If he doesn't stop touching Leni, we might be forced to …_

However, this news was a little more stressful with the addition of the _other_ presence in the room. Those four individuals were lingering just yards above them.

The vigilantes that were currently dangling from the ceiling by the very vines that were attempting to kill them. Although her current group was hidden from their view, it was only a matter of time before the infamous dark knight freed himself and started looking around.

And seeing as Harley was currently holding (and looking after) the child of said vigilante, the blonde was in a little more of a pickle.

On top of the Batman only yards away from seeing his child—whom he had no clue even existed—on the other side of the greenhouse lay another pair of parents with their own custody problems. The strangely absentee Poison Ivy and Mr. Freeze were on the other side of the building the last time she checked.

So was their three-month-old.

At least, that was where Harley left Flora less than a few moments ago.

If all of that wasn't enough, a dead ninja lay on the floor before them in a pool of its own blood.

Only a few moments before, Harley's adoptive niece (who also happened to be the elder sister of the baby Harley held) just dropped in carrying a possibly fatal bullet wound. Not only was the indigo-clad teenager ignoring the blaringly obvious wound on her ribs, she was currently being held in the arms of an equally gaudily-dressed young man whom the brunette decided to announce was her fiancé.

As in, someone she agreed to marry.

And this … was coming from the girl who had claimed a few days before that she had absolutely no time for the opposite gender.

 _No guys, huh?_

 _Liar, liar, pants on fire!_

Harley was a little more than overwhelmed.

 _Let's see … what do we got on our plate?_

 _Bats, babies …_

 _Baby-daddies, ninjas …_

 _Dirty little boys with their mitts all over Leni!_

 _Did we miss anything?_

 _Leni bleeding out?_

 _Oh yeah, that!_

"Oi!" Harley hissed before Huntress could get out more words. Although Harley realized she cut off her own answers, she did not really care at that moment.

She was speaking to the newest addition to the room.

Before Harley did anything else, she needed to separate these two. "Do I need to get a _hose_!?"

Although the taller young man did not respond to Harley, he pulled his head up to look Huntress in the eye. Prying his mouth away from her skin, he smiled genuinely but looked concerned at the same time.

"How is it?" he asked, his half-gloved hand lifting away from Helena's thigh to make its way to her side. At the same time, his other hand came up to cup Helena's face gently.

At his attention to her side, the brunette hissed in pain. "Painful—it would be a lot better if you had gotten here sooner," she bit out, brow wrinkled with a mix of emotional and physical irritation. "What the hell took you so long?"

 _Huh?_

 _What the hell are they talking about?_

 _Did—did he just_ _ **ignore**_ _us?!_

 _Are they forgetting about all the blood?_

With a smirk, the young man Helena called Jason lifted his hand away from her face, but not before brushing her cheek with his thumb tenderly. Instead of touching Huntress somewhere else, he brought his hand towards his own chest.

His fingers slid into the folds of his leather vest, removing something from a hidden pocket over his heart. Throughout the entire movement, he kept his eyes locked with the person before him. "You were the one who told me to take the long way," he teased, voice velvety soft.

The thing that he pulled out of his breast pocket was a small black case. Without hesitation, he looked over to the blonde that had just been yelling at him and held it out to her. "Could you take this?" he asked politely.

Harley paused and examined the item presented to her. Although she sensed no danger from this individual, experience taught her caution. Especially when it concerned strange objects. The long and flatter metal item resembled a slightly larger than average cigarette case.

However, Huntress spoke up. "Harley, we don't have much time," she huffed briefly.

The blonde reached forward, quickly snatching the item from the young man's hand as she took it. Immediately afterward, the hooded figure turned back to the girl in his arms. Without much effort, he grasped her under her arms to lift her up from the ground and sit her on the table. Huntress did not fight him, assisting him by pushing her feet off from the floor as he did so.

Once she was settled, he lifted Huntress's cape aside and used his strangely dexterous fingers to unlace the cloth around her waist. Harley internally seethed with anger, but when she realized that he simply wanted to look at Huntress's wound, she calmed down.

He glanced up to Harley, his strangely suiting red eyes serious. "You're the doctor, right?" he asked, hands still caught up in unfastening Huntress's clothing.

 _As in, we've had medical training …?_

 _In our past life …_

Harley nodded slowly. "Yes …"

"Could you measure out two units of that?" he asked, nodding to the case in her hand. He took out a pocket knife to slit the sutures Harley just made.

Harley blinked at the object in her hand, brow wrinkled. She came over and placed Damian down on the table next to his sister, making sure to place him far enough from the edge so he would not fall over the side. Thankfully the baby was old enough to sit up by himself, but Huntress reached out anyway to steady the infant once Harley released him.

Harley then turned to the case, unbuckling the almost belt-like clasp around the outside.

Strapped to the inside of the one half was a syringe with a few additional needle attachments accompanying the one already on the syringe itself. On the opposite side were a few vials of liquid, all completely clear in appearance and unmarked. Although there were no labels to give her any clues, Harley realized immediately that the liquid was a medicine of sorts, and she did not hesitate to do as instructed.

If it helped Helena, she needed to act quickly.

The blonde came over beside them, taking out what she needed from the small case before placing the rest on the table. As she took out the needle, Harley attached it to the end and pulled out one of the many vials. They were tiny, however dense in weight. Harley realized the material inside was not completely liquid. As she filled up the syringe, she flicked the side with her finger, checking to see if it responded correctly.

However, a hand reached out to prevent her from spraying the liquid out.

The hooded individual looked Harley apprehensively. "You don't want to spill that," he advised grimly.

Harley noticed that his hand was still a little bloody from taking out the stitches.

Although she hesitated, Harley eventually did as he said. Then, when she noticed his other hand was outstretched towards her, she carefully handed the syringe over.

Almost immediately after, Harley turned her gaze onto the teenager sitting on the table to look her in the eye. Harley was still so confused, and half hoped Helena would give her some answers. However, Huntress only held a knowing glance with the blonde, informing her not to ask too many questions. So, the blonde relented and turned back to the situation at hand.

In their line of business, Harley knew when and where to hold her tongue.

If she needed to know what was in the vial, the information would come to her.

Huntress held her bodice open with one hand, having passed Damian over to Harley once again. The teenager steadied herself with her other hand on the edge of the tabletop, as the young man in front of her bent forward, syringe in hand, to look at her wound.

"This'll sting," he warned simply, glancing up at her. The needle hovered only inches away from her skin.

Helena only nodded at his caution. "Just do it already," she gritted out.

Inserting the needle directly into the middle of the wound, Helena let out restrained hiss even louder than before. She clutched at the edge of the table with tense knuckles, closing her eyes tightly. As the young man started administrating the substance into Helena's body, Harley noticed that he allowed Helena to dig her nails into his shoulder.

 _Well, he can't be that bad …_

As soon as he lifted the syringe away, he gathered the case from the table and disassembled the syringe and folded it back inside its holder. Immediately afterward, he grabbed a clean towel (from the items Harley gathered only minutes before) to wipe the blood from his fingers.

 _Wait a minute—is that smoke?!_

Indeed, a faint cloud of heated air began to materialize from the younger female's flesh. Harley came in closer to the scene, examining Helena's side carefully, making sure to place herself in between the smoke and the baby. Curiosity got the better of her, and she wanted to know more.

An almost indistinguishable bubbling sound emerged from her skin, and Harley pulled the cloth aside as she saw the flesh almost knit itself back together before her eyes. Almost as soon as the skin reformed, the spoking and bubbling stopped.

The bullet wound disappeared.

Like nothing ever happened.

Eyes widening, Harley gripped Helena's arm as she looked her in the eyes. "What the hell is that?!"

Huntress only winced, avoiding Harley's gaze. "I can't explain now," she muttered, moving quickly to refasten her clothes.

As Helena redressed herself and hopped off the table, all signs of illness or injury were gone, and the younger female even pulled out the line feeding blood into her arm.

Harley would have been impressed, if she was not so startled. She turned to the young man wiping off his hands. "Is this your doing?" she asked, gesturing to the little black case he stuck back into his vest.

The young man merely shrugged. "Not exactly," he responded.

"Harley," Helena informed gently, reaching out a hand to Harley's shoulder. "I know you have a lot of questions, and I'm really sorry—but I just need you to do as I say right now. I promise I'll explain later."

The blonde bit the inside of her lip, glancing up as she heard a series of crashes above. Now was not the time for answers.

They needed to move.

"Okay," Harley agreed, face serious. "But you _owe_ me."

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"The devil is not as black as we paint him." _ **―**_ _Yiddish Saying_

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Sometime ago…

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"Leni! I'm so sorry I'm late—I had a lot of studying to do today. I have this big test I gotta pass. Do you still want me to read you a story before you go to sleep?"

Pause.

Nod.

"Is something wrong, sweetie?"

Head shake.

"No."

Pause.

"Hm … are you sure?"

Nod.

"Okay, what story do you want me to read?"

Silence.

"You know, why don't we just talk a little bit instead? I think you're a little too tired."

Pause.

"No, I'm not sleepy …"

"What is it? You know you can tell Aunt Harley anything."

Pause.

"I got this today …"

"Oh? What a nice big tiger! It's even your favorite color—oh look, your name is sewn in right here. Where'd you get it?"

"… he sent it …"

"He?"

"… my grandpa."

Longer pause.

"Leni … have you seen Cat yet today?"

Head shake.

"No. I don't wanna see her. She doesn't like when Grandpa gives me toys."

Pause.

"… do you want to keep your new toy?"

"No—Cat doesn't like them …"

"But it's your toy, sweetie, not Cat's …"

Pause.

"If I keep it … then Grandpa will leave Cat alone, won't he? Last time I threw his present away, he got real mad at her."

Sigh.

"Is that what you're worried about? I'll talk to Cat, okay? I'll make sure nothing like that happens."

"… thank you …"

"You don't have to thank me, honey. You know I'd do anything for you."

Pause.

"Aunt Harley?"

"Yes, what is it?"

"Is Cat my real mommy?"

Gasp.

Pause.

"Who—why would you think that?"

"Please don't lie. Ivy won't talk to me."

Sigh.

"I'm sorry, Leni. It's just that I haven't been allowed to tell anyone what I know. I don't think Cat would be happy if I told you anything."

"I promise not to tell anyone. Please tell me."

Sigh.

"Okay, sweetie, okay—yes, Cat is your real mommy. How did you find out?"

"I heard Cat talking to him—Grandpa. He said I looked like Cat's mommy."

Smile.

"You know, you are a very smart little girl, Leni."

"Why don't I have Cat's name? How come I had my other mommy and daddy?"

Pause.

Wince.

Sigh.

"I promised I wouldn't lie to you Leni and I won't, but I don't know a lot. There are a few things I do know though."

"What are they?"

"Cat, Ivy and I all lived together since I was your age. Sometimes Cat would leave for a long time, but she always came back. However, one day, Cat never came home. She was gone for such a long time. After a little while, Ivy and I were real afraid she would never come back."

"Then what happened?"

"Then one day she did come back again—like she never left at all. And she had a special someone with her."

"Who was that?"

"Why you, silly goose! Cat came to me and Ivy, and asked us to watch you for a little while. You were just so cute, we couldn't resist. That's why you're here with us now."

"Where did she go?"

"Hm?"

"When she was gone, where did Cat go?"

Pause.

"You see, sweetie, right after you were born, Cat had to go away…"

"Where?"

Sigh.

"I don't know. Ivy and I were taken away too after she left. But because she had to go away, someone had to take care of you, sweetie."

"You mean, my old mommy and daddy?"

"… I think they were really your aunt and uncle, Leni—your grandpa was your old mommy's daddy. You see, your auntie—the one who was your old mommy—had a little girl too. And this little girl was your age—but she died when she was still very little. Your mommy and daddy were parents without a baby, and you were a baby without parents. I'm pretty sure that's why they loved you so much."

"You mean, like why they both tried to stop that bad man from hurting me?"

Pause.

"Yes, sweetie, that's exactly the reason."

"But why does Cat not like Grandpa? He's always nice to her."

Sigh.

"When Cat had to go away, it was because she was sick, Leni. And the reason she was real sick had a lot to do with your Grandpa …"

"But why? He loves Cat."

Pause.

"How do you know that?"

"When he was with Cat, he feels the same as you do when you're with me. The same with Cat and Ivy too."

Longer pause.

"Feels? Do you mean that thing we talked about earlier?"

Nod.

"Mm-hm. Why would he make Cat sick?"

Pause.

"… I don't know, Leni. But I'm pretty sure he's sorry for what he did. I don't think he would care about you so much if he wasn't …"

"But Cat's still mad at him?"

"Yeah … she'll probably be mad at him for a long time …"

"But why?"

"Sometimes it's hard for grown-ups to forgive people."

Silence.

Longer pause.

"So, if Cat is my mommy, who's my daddy?"

Wince.

"Well … that is another very long story …"

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"Brevity is the soul of wit _."_ _ **―**_ William Shakespeare

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Present ...

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It took a matter of seconds for the shrieking vines to die down, and the group of Harley, Huntress and Red Hood instantly knew time was up. Another series of thuds told them that the bats and birds finally managed to free themselves.

Huntress took it upon herself to grab Harley and take her to a secret trap door that lead out of the main greenhouse. Before Harley got an explanation, Huntress closed the door behind them and Harley found herself alone… except for little Damian.

And her new acquaintance.

After a slightly awkward introduction between the two of them, they started walking. Harley found out that this one's name was 'Red Hood', and despite his hypnotic nature and charming smile, the blonde realized she did not like him.

As Harley looked at him closer, she realized he was younger than she first thought. She assumed he was around Helena's age, but upon closer inspection he looked younger than that. His body obviously did not care that he was only so old. Harley bit her lip as she tried to figure out the exact number. He could pass for early twenties in the right lighting, with his frame and physique.

Harley only realized how young he was because of her medical training.

Same training that helped her recognize Freeze was Flora's daddy upon their first meeting.

A brief flicker of an urge to maim the red-hooded newcomer subsided when he took out one of his pistols and shot another ninja.

After stepping over this masked woman, Harley realized why Huntress told her to turn on the greenhouse's major defenses; in case more showed up. Harley did not receive much information from her beloved niece before their separation, however she realized, after a few moments, that the newest member of their little group was quite forthcoming with explanations. So, that made up for it.

As vague as those explanations were.

Apparently, Huntress gave Red Hood instructions before they encountered Harley. Red Hood was to take Damian and head to a secret rendezvous point while Huntress did her best to distract Batman and co. and lure them away from the greenhouse. Last thing that Ivy needed was all of them sticking around inside her house.

However, seeing as Ivy's plants did not recognize Red Hood, Harley needed to escort him so the vines would not attack him on his way out. This was the reason for the two of them leaving through the trapdoor.

Once Red Hood killed another ninja, the subject of Huntress' movements over the time of Harley's time babysitting arose.

Unfortunately, Harley only received the story from Red Hood's perspective, so she did not receive the whole story. Some of the parts she needed to fill in herself.

The journey out of the greenhouse was a lengthy one, seeing as they were literally going in one big circle around the complex just to avoid being seen. Their sprint through the greenhouse only took a few minutes, even if the place was gigantic. So, yes, Harley filled in a lot of the details that were not voiced aloud, because their conversation consisted of a lot of Harley giving Red Hood questions and him either grinning or raising an eyebrow at her in response.

He was a young man of very few words.

Huntress and Red Hood only met less than a few days ago, but apparently, they spent almost that time either running into or away from one another. It all started when Helena was headed home after she left the greenhouse on the day she picked up Harley from the industrial district. Huntress encountered a dilapidated Red Hood half dead in an alleyway.

Red Hood claimed that a few things brought him to that alley; about a dozen thugs, a box of kittens and an asshole of a punk with an ax to grind who possessed a hobby of torturing helpless animals. Huntress appeared only upon chance, seeing as the group blocked her path home. Pissed off and sleep deprived, Huntress proceeded to kick the shit out of what was left of the thugs before dragging Red Hood off for medical attention.

The next few details were rather cryptic. The only explanation that Red Hood gave was while Huntress was patching him up, they got into talking. Then, for whatever reason that came over the brunette, Helena proceeded to suddenly 'take advantage' of Red Hood in his injured state—that was a direct quote there.

Harley frowned at this information. She severally doubted any advantage was taken with this individual.

That was when Red Hood announced his age; Harley had to admit she was impressed that a sixteen-year-old was that level headed.

After such an event with Red Hood, a mortified Helena ran away from the scene, and attempted to forget the event ever happened. Harley suspected the teenager's powers had a lot to do with her 'attacking' this young man. Not only did Helena have a lot of things to do, she had a brother to figure out how to protect. Too bad for the teenager, she and Red Hood's alter ego just kept running into each other over the next few days. The hooded figure admitted to following her around somewhat after locating her again, but only after he figured out that Helena was being followed.

By none other than those creepy ninja ladies that followed Cat the other day.

Motivated by gratitude (and probably lust, probably a lot of that), Red Hood stuck around Helena while she moved around the city. After he saved her life more than once, she finally relented in allowing him to just stick by her side while she performed her daily routine in her unmasked identity. Although Helena attempted to get rid of him several times afterward, Red Hood stood his ground and insisted that he stick around until she 'made an honest man' out of him.

Begrudgingly, Huntress agreed to his so-called proposal and she found herself with an impromptu yet very helpful partner on her escapades.

And they were numerous.

Apparently, Huntress decided to take it upon herself to find protection for her brother. Seeing as she was forbidden from contacting her first choice (daddy dearest), she went to another source. Red Hood did not know Huntress' new benefactor, but Harley had a sneaking suspicion she knew the person.

Seeing as Harley worked for that person too.

Harley needed to pursue that line of inquiry later.

And to trade for Damian's protection, Huntress was given a series of tasks that were a little unsavory—well, for normal people. For Huntress, it was just another day.

However, along the way of their adventures, they ran into an interesting group. Red Hood neglected to mention that he was once the apprentice of an all too familiar dark knight—the same one that happened to be biologically related to Huntress.

Apparently, Batman was looking for Huntress's new fiancé and partner in crime. Upon discovering Huntress's link to him, he decided to try and capture her to find out the whereabouts of Red Hood. When Huntress defied him, and ran, she was once again followed for several days, only by Batman's alter ego.

Helena's unknowing father attempted to wait out the information he wanted.

Red Hood was currently clashing with his mentor. Despite the lack of details, Harley got the impression that he up and left for some strange reason. So, while Red Hood decided to help Huntress, Batman and his little group were following Red Hood to drag him back with them. Red Hood was following Huntress, and Batman followed him.

Such irony.

That was when Harley inquired about why Batman cared so much.

Red Hood's explanation was thus; first off, Red Hood was not yet a legal adult (sixteen, remember?) and Batman had the rights to keep him under house arrest. Harley then asked why and how Batman could even do that (as in legally, in the real world). Red Hood then explained that he was officially adopted by Batman's alter ego several years before.

At that point, Harley had to prevent herself from falling down a set of stairs.

The blonde almost had a heart attack after hearing this newest morsel. All the voices in her head then started freaking out again.

Their words sounded a little like this;

 _Wait a minute …_

 _Leni said he was her fiancé …_

 _But Batsy legally adopted him?_

 _But Batsy's also biologically Leni's daddy…_

 _That means that he's her brother …_

 _Oh shit._

 _Where are our toys?!_

The blonde did not hide her shock at first, and was revisiting those ideas of hurting Red Hood. The maiming involved an abandoned factory, duct tape, a rusty knife, lots of blood and screaming, some detached limbs and a merry tune.

He would never be able to father children when she was done with him.

That was when Harley connected the dots, and realized Red Hood did not know her dearest niece's third identity—the one she never had to begin with.

So … Helena neglected to mention that? She just happened to forget the part where the person she agreed to marry was actually her brother? There was no way Helena would withhold that information if she wanted Red Hood to know.

Well, Harley was not about to tell him.

Harley calmed herself down when she realized that the two were not even siblings, not technically. They did not have the same biological parents, so the only thing that would have made them related was Helena's third identity—and that one did not even exist in the real world. If it was, that would only make them adoptive siblings.

However,aAs creepy as it was, there was nothing that made them family in either blood or society. So, Harley found herself accepting the news (at least for the moment).

This was where Huntress' little bullet wound came up.

Red Hood actually shot her, but on Huntress' own orders.

The hooded teenager had an anonymous benefactor of his own, and this was the one who supplied that special, freaky medicine that healed Huntress so quickly. Harley was certain he left out several crucial details to his story at this point, because he only glanced over how he got the very odd medicine, but the essentials were all the same.

Huntress knew she could be healed afterward, so she set up a plan.

The teenager was tasked with gaining the trust of a certain individual. The idea was to shoot Huntress, protecting that individual and hence, get that trust.

Unfortunately, right after the gunpowder went off into the air, the big bat and crew appeared. And Batman wanted more answers after Huntress took a stray bullet for a crime boss—the one he was currently investigating.

Although Huntress did her best to lose the troupe, the lack of blood left her sloppy and she was followed by more than one specimen. The ninjas that had been tailing her for days finally received the information they wanted (Damian's whereabouts), and it prompted Huntress to move.

Huntress came straight to the greenhouse because she knew the ninjas would be heading there anyway, so she had no time to give forewarning.

When the time arrived, that Harley found Helena, the bats and birds had been circling the greenhouse.

Unfortunately, Red Hood only found out about his old friends' presence on the scene when he was retrieving the reason for the current situation; Damian. He was picking up the baby when the very father of the child burst through the ceiling. Once he had Damian, Red Hood came to help with Helena's wound.

That was the exact moment one of the ninjas decided to sneak up on them—if Red Hood had been any later, he would not have been able to shoot the intruder.

Because at that moment, they had more than one problem.

At that moment, the major ones were the four masked figures that crashed into the greenhouse. And why try to lure them away?

The other problem they had; Flora.

The other infant Harley had been watching was not where Harley left her. The original plan of just getting Damian became altered with the arrival of Flora's father. Freeze's presence was not good, and Huntress saw him enter the building by means of making his own door. After all, there was a reason Ivy refused to leave her home for over a year.

So instead of just taking Damian, Huntress altered the plan to retrieve Flora as well. But while Huntress was distracting the ninjas, Red Hood could not stealthily retrieve the little girl along with the little boy; Flora was not with Damian when he opened the loft to retrieve the children.

Somehow, in the small amount of time from when Harley left the two children, and Red Hood came to pick up Damian, someone had taken Flora.

Who this person was remained a mystery.

Harley confirmed to Red Hood that she indeed left Ivy with Freeze, and the young man explained that Huntress and himself could not find the plant mistress when they entered the main greenhouse.

Nor did they see Freeze.

Mother, father and child were all absentee.

In their line of work, Harley realized that this was a big red flag. Obviously, someone was something afoot. She knew that she needed to do something, and she desperately wanted to look for her friend.

But first things first.

The only thing that comforted Harley were the facts; if Freeze did abscond with Ivy and Flora, Harley realized there was a very small chance he would harm them. Freeze was one of the least violent Arkham patients she remembered reading about.

But she needed to get Damian to safety.

Then, and only then, could she go off looking for Ivy.

Thankfully, Harley's newest ally could drive.

However, that did not mean they had their fill of obstacles.

* * *

HxJ

JxH

* * *

"The most important thing in communication is hearing what isn't said." **―** Peter Drucker

* * *

HxJ

JxH

* * *

 _Does anyone else hear that …?_

 _Yeah—those are_ _ **voices**_ _…_

 _That's us …_

 _No—the ones outside our head!_

Usually, when anyone weird put their hands on her, Harley acted first and thought second.

A hand over her mouth would be bitten.

Sadly, Harley restrained herself the moment she realized her newest ally reached his hand out to silence her. While swiftly walking through the long corridors of the chambers surrounding the main greenhouse, they got closer and closer to their destination of Ivy's garage. Just as the blonde went to turn a corner, a hand reached out and yanked her back.

Red Hood pinned her to the railing and covered her mouth. Harley had an impulse to fight, but it instantly died the moment she saw that the young man was not even looking at her when he brought his hand up to cover her mouth.

Instead, his blood red eyes were trained on the path ahead.

Harley's brow wrinkled when he looked to her, and silently raised a finger to cover his mouth. From his suddenly blank expression and stiff posture, she realized he sensed a potential threat.

More than likely, the threat lay beyond that corner.

So instead of resisting, Harley simply nodded silently in confirmation. Red Hood reached up to the side of his head to press the button on his head-piece. The rather bold red helmet reformed around his face, and he pulled his hood up over his head.

To get to their destination, the pair were required to take quite a few detours and secret passages. Thankfully, Harley knew all of them and they got through them as quickly as they could. What slowed them were a few stray ninjas, and the fact they were trying to be discreet and quiet.

More than one entity in the greenhouse was looking for them.

Walking along another balcony, what hindered their movements were the vegetation in this section. The mostly evergreen trees were tall and strong, but lacked the coverage of some of the other chambers offered. Harley pulled the blanket around Damian even snugger when she realized it was cooler in there than even the main greenhouse. Red Hood stopped Harley as they came upon a set of stairs to lead them down to the ground. The garage was close after this room, and then hopefully Harley could be free to look for Ivy.

Harley saw her younger compatriot withdrawal one of his pistols, the black and red metal gleaming with silver flames even in the faint light of this sector. Red Hood stayed close to the ground after he used a hand signal to tell Harley to wait where she was, slowly creeping towards the stairs he pulled Harley back from.

They had little coverage; the fir and pine trees surrounding them lacked the winding and creeping foliage of vines from other spaces. Thankfully, Ivy installed a little hedge maze along the pathway of the balcony, seeing as this one was constructed from the very trees that littered the space instead of metal. Harley pulled herself closer to the ground, steadying herself on the living bridge covered in a layer of thick bark. As she gravitated towards the prickly pines, the scent of tree sap made her nose itch—these genetically altered trees were used for ingredients in Ivy's experiments after all. She was almost certain they were used for some hallucinogenic potions too.

Once she got lower, she heard what alerted Red Hood.

 _What are they doing here?_

 _How did they even get in here?_

 _Just be thankful it's just the two ..._

Once closer to the ground, Harley delicately poked her hand through the hedge to part the branches. These guys responded to the blonde, recognizing her and assisting her in her efforts. She kept the rustling as quiet as possible as she made herself a hole in the greenery. She saw Red Hood watch her, but he refrained from stopping her.

Apparently, that was permission to proceed.

Finding herself sitting down to the floor, Harley needed to stay cautious as she inched herself closer to the edge of the balcony. Despite the foliage, she could still fall if she was not careful.

Damian could fall as well.

That was when Harley saw them; the source of Red Hood's alert.

Two very interesting figures.

"I can't believe you talked me into this," hissed the taller of the pair.

A restrained laugh came from the other figure. "I didn't ask you to do a thing, Pixie-Boots."

 _Pixie-Boots?_

 _That's a new one._

The dark-haired young man turned to look at his redheaded companion. He let out a grunt as he slammed an electrically-charged baton into a fern that was getting a little too friendly. The capeless individual's brow wrinkled, and Harley realized he was glaring even though she could not see his eyes from beneath his mask.

A frown marred his lips. "Like I had a choice," he bit out.

Harley blinked as she looked at the young man standing only several feet below her. An opportunity to observe a specimen like this only came along every so often. And in this instance, she got two!

 _What a treat!_

As electricity surged through a branch, it shrilly hissed and exploded sizzling tree sap all over the floor. The acid bubbled and created a small crater in the concrete, but the greenery finally released the baton's handler.

Harley scanned his image, going through her memory bank for a match. She was almost certain she remembered this one.

 _This one is …_

 _What's his name again?_

 _Nightwing?_

 _What kind of name is that?_

 _I don't know! I just store the information; I don't process it!_

The youth in blue was the first to make it onto the scene.

Harley grinned as she watched him flip over backwards to avoid another branch. He had some skill. Once landed on his feet, he continued to speak to his companion.

"Like I'm not supposed to follow you when you start spewing nonsense?"

The lean yet muscular form of the youth known as Nightwing stood up from the ground to bring his full form into view.

The sleek boots formed to his uniform, the footwear designed to mesh with the rest of the outfit. The stark black material laced with almost flame-shaped stripes of a luscious electric blue looked literally melded onto his form. The electric blue color was fascinating; it shifted as he moved so that the intensity of such a color only revealed itself at certain angles. The fabric was flexible, yet durable. Harley noted a series of reinforced areas all over the expanse of his body for more armor.

Adorning his chest was the prominent bird-shaped symbol that defined his name, in the same color as the flames wicked all over his limbs.

As he stood up, Harley noticed the intricacies of the mask on Nightwing's face. It lined his jaw around the sides, adding to his disguise and protection. It certainly added to the definition of his structured jaw line. The device held mechanical elements, seeing as the entire span of his eyes were hidden from view by a screen-like element.

Harley had to admit that this one seemed a lot like her present companion; dark hair, broad shoulders, a tall muscled physique and a youthful aura. Once he could stand up straight, she could see that he had a little bit of a wider (wider, not fatter) frame than the person standing next to her, although he looked a little shorter.

The blonde wondered if Nightwing was older than Red Hood.

A deeper and technologically altered voice piqued up before Harley observed more about Nightwing. Despite its tone, it was oddly feminine.

A flash of bright orange came into Harley's vision.

 _Hey, look at that!_

 _Well, if Batsy's got enough sense to have a girl sidekick, he can't be all that bad …_

 _He's also Leni and Damian's daddy, so we gotta thank him for that …_

 _Oooo, another redhead!_

The second addition to the room was shorter than Nightwing, yet her costume left the impression of a larger figure with the addition of the floor-length cape. Her heeled boots made a subtle click on the cement floor as she landed in a crouch after flipping out of the way of one of the branches attacking her. Batgirl stood up straight to turn to her companion, and Harley blinked while observing this figure.

 _She and Leni could be twins …_

 _Yeah right—she's got red hair!_

 _No, I meant her figure!_

Although moderately tall, the shapely hourglass figure of this youth only seemed to be magnetized by the incredibly tiny mini skirt around her hips. It was a dress, but fit more like a tunic. The length of her skirt made the tininess of her waist even more defined, despite the almost corset-like belt wrapped around her middle.

The material of her "mini dress" itself was a bold magenta, a pink so deep that in certain lights is seemed almost purple. The color itself was deep enough to be mistaken for black, the true color only seen intermittently as she moved around. The black leggings and knee-high boots underneath her outfit were the deep jet black that matched her cloak and cowl.

The pointed ears on her cowl made her silhouette taller, even though she stood several inches shorter than her companion. The bright orange of her hair fell out from the back of her cowl, a hole specifically cut out for such a purpose. Harley thought it was rather inconvenient—would not her hair just get in the way? However, as the young woman got closer, Harley noticed her hair fibers were much too perfect to be real.

 _A wig—just like Leni …_

 _Hm … so she chose that color to go with that outfit … interesting …_

 _Well,_ _ **that**_ _other thing is not like Leni …_

Batgirl stood up straight, cloak falling away from her front to reveal the daunting bat symbol positioned over her chest. Young as she may be, and Harley was certain she could not be older than Helena, the volume of the swollen assets one could call breasts were nothing to sneeze at.

 _Damn those are big._

 _Wouldn't those be awfully uncomfortable with all that flying around …?_

 _How does she stand up straight …?_

 _Sure don't envy her …_

 _Well, there's only so much you can restrain those before they start to hurt …_

The redhead placed a hand on her hip as she cocked her head to the side. "Nonsense?" she echoed, sounding more irritated than before.

Nightwing let out a sigh and Harley almost felt him roll his eyes he made it so obvious. Before answering, he took the initiative and placed himself incredibly close to his female companion. His face came down to hover in front of hers. When his words finally came out, they were darker and hushed.

The grimness radiated off him. "Yes, nonsense— _what_ are you even doing?" he bit out insistently.

Harley's nose wrinkled, feeling herself shiver from the dramatic change. The tone darkened rather quickly, too quickly for such a vague conversation. Training made her realize another, hidden conversation laid silently beneath the one spoken. It made Harley wonder what they were really discussing.

 _Hm …_

 _Fascinating …_

 _I sense repressed sexual tension …_

 _That's irrelevant …_

 _Yeah, you always sense that!_

Batgirl only snarled as she punched a branch that came up to bite her shoulder, needles flying everywhere as she retracted her hand. As Nightwing lowered his head down to hers, Batgirl instantly retracted away from him. Only a little while ago, she seemed perfectly content to be close to him, but it changed within nanoseconds. The redhead jerked away from her comrade quickly, almost like she anticipated him touching her.

Her body flinched, reminding Harley of patients with physical abuse trauma. However, this did not seem like the case with these two. Nightwing did not give the impression of abusive; he made absolutely no move to strike her. If anything, he was doing his best to prevent physical contact while getting as close as possible.

As Batgirl whirled around to walk down the passageway, she glared at the ground before her. "Will you just shut up and help me?!" she hissed, her feet making definite, exact clicks against the floor.

 _That was not fear …_

 _More like anger …_

 _But she definitely does not want him touching her …_

However, a just as the redhead took the first few steps, a newly freed hand reached out to grab her upper arm. Nightwing almost literally yanked her back to turn her around. Harley almost jumped as she saw him slam Batgirl against the wrought-iron fence of a wall that divided the space from the outside.

 _Well, that escalated rather quickly!_

The redhead instantly did her best to pull away from him.

Her voice changed from irritated to alarmed, almost scared. "D—Nightwing, let go of me!" she practically begged in a hushed tone, her voice breaking.

With both of his batons powered off and returned to their holsters on his back, Nightwing pressed both of his hands the wall behind her, arms on either side of her head.

"You are _not_ walking away from me," he gritted out angrily, the emotion in every word.

Batgirl refused to look at him, doing everything to turn her gaze away from the young man in confronting her. She let out a noise that sounded a mix between a gasp and a sob, relentless with her force as she pushed against his shoulders to wriggle out of his grasp. She ducked down to escape from under his arms, and was successful in getting away for just a few seconds.

Nightwing was not as quick, but made up for it with his strength as he grabbed her wrist while she tried escaping.

"Damnit, Bee—talk to me!" he snapped, his voice coming out more hurt than angry this time. "I'm not going to let you ignore me!"

Harley suddenly felt awkward, and glanced over to the person beside her. Although she did not watch him do so, Red Hood slowly crept over beside her to get his own view of the scene. Supposedly, these people were at one point his comrades—he might have known more about the situation than Harley. The blonde wanted to ask later.

When she looked back to the scene, Harley felt a sudden guilty notion from watching.

It almost felt … wrong.

However, a part of her (the gut instinct that was rarely incorrect) knew that watching would come in handy later—for whatever strange and bizarre reason that turned out to be.

Batgirl's wrist remained in Nightwing's grasp, although she held her body away from his as far as possible, her arm lagging behind her. Completely turned away from him, a curtain of her hair came down almost as if to hide her face intentionally.

"Let go of me," she almost sobbed in the best demanding voice she could muster. Although when the words left her lips, they sounded pathetic and weak. "We can't talk about this here."

Like she no longer possessed any strength.

Nightwing did not let go, but he did not tighten his hold either. Concern laced his words this time, but remained dark and hushed. "You've been missing for days—when else am I supposed to talk to you?"

While speaking, he took a step forward towards her form.

Although he remained calm, Batgirl instantly stiffened and pulled her wrist from his grasp. "Are you really going to ignore me after what happened?" he asked.

Silence lingered in the air so awkwardly after this, thick enough that Harley almost felt it.

 _Well, they definitely slept together …_

 _And now she regrets it …?_

 _No, it's deeper than that …_

The blonde glanced over to the young man beside her again, eyeing him silently. His hood remained up, but he lifted his helmet from his face again to look at the scene closer. Harley raised an eyebrow at him to inquire.

Red Hood did not flash a devious smile, and his eyes did not radiate mischief. His mood matched the scene as he looked up to Harley.

She focused on his lips as he only mouthed his next message, "Trouble in paradise."

Harley could not hear the next words exchanged. Nightwing came up to whisper something into Batgirl's ear, and she visibly stiffened even more with each syllable uttered. He was much more gentle when he reached out to touch her again, this time to grasp her around the waist, but she only jerked away once again.

She looked ready to break down. After pulling away, she visibly weakened, but it was not from the effort to get away.

It was from forcing herself to pull away.

Silence filled the space again. Batgirl began to head towards the exit, practically dashing as her figure disappeared. Nightwing stayed still for several moments after she left, looking like he was debating his next move.

Then, he turned and began to walk in the opposite way than his comrade left.

Harley bit her lip.

 _No, no, no …!_

 _Not that way, idiot!_

 _She went the other way!_

 _Go after her!_

Harley had no idea, but her heart went out to the pair. She did not even know them, never even spoken to them, and yet the scene affected her. It just seemed so sad.

Nightwing took several steps in his direction, practically dragging his feet along the ground.

The blonde perked up when she heard a faint sound beside her. "Other way, Dicky-Bird," Red Hood muttered under his breath.

 _Ha!_

 _See, he's not dumb!_

 _We might like him after all!_

 _But Dicky-Bird?_

 _We gotta figure that one out later!_

Harley cracked a grin. He could not be that bad if he agreed with her.

Then, almost like he heard them (and Harley hoped that was not true), Nightwing stopped.

The blonde restrained an 'eep!' as she pulled back from her viewing station and covered her mouth with one hand, and used her other to reach around Damian and place a pacifier into his mouth. Red Hood only raised an eyebrow at her, but backed away the same.

She could not see, but Harley heard Nightwing's footsteps as he walked away.

Harley saw Red Hood smile, the taller individual still able to see the scene below. "Finally," he breathed, his voice audible as he stood.

Picking herself up, Harley made sure not to linger as she followed him down the stairs. Harley was not certain which direction Nightwing finally took, but he was gone from that small area. Thankfully, the little road block of teenage melodrama headed in away from them, so now they were free to slip through the secret doorway with ease.

Harley knelt to open the door, feeling the metal click beneath her fingers. She stayed crouched, the door only being several feet tall; one of the reasons it usually remained unnoticed. After slipping through, she held the metal door open while her companion followed suit. As she stood up, she looked around the next corridor to scan for threats.

Once she began walking, Harley found herself walking faster to keep up with the teenager.

He was just so damned tall; his long strides easily outran her.

"What was that about?" she finally asked. The question had been nagging at her in the back of her mind ever since they left the last building.

She could not see his expression of a reaction; he put his helmet back on when Harley was looking away. However, he did answer her.

It seemed he knew what she was talking about; "You're in the dark just as much as I am," his muffled response came.

* * *

HxJ

JxH

* * *

"Whatever words we utter should be chosen with care for people will hear them and be influenced by them for good or ill." **―** Buddha

* * *

HxJ

JxH

* * *

"Oh shit—who are they!?" Harley hissed in a whisper, glancing over to the young man beside her.

Harley found her back pressed up against another wall, however this time she kept herself there instead of another forcing her into that position. Internally, she seethed with annoyance. Somehow, she kept turning up in this situation the whole day. However, she pushed it away in light of a more important thing; the situation at hand.

After making it through the last corridor, the pair successfully made it almost all the way around the greenhouse. Yes, the scenic route was both long and almost redundant (without defenses in effect, Harley simply would have gone the other way and been there in a minute) but they finally found themselves all the way at the end of the giant circle they traced. It landed them in one of the warmer greenhouses.

Although not tropical, these plants only thrived in warmer climates. Their other most notable detail that the greenery in this section was … not as green.

Instead, a vast rainbow of multicolored blooms littered the space. Flowers of infinite variety crept up the walls and hung from the ceiling. More flowers cluttered the ponds that made up the floors, the only thing keeping Harley's feet out of water was the metal grates that made walkways through the space.

Colorful trees of every size and shape littered the space, roots embedded deeply underneath the water. Their flowers in addition to their leaves seemed to glow from the fluorescent pigments they emitted. The color seemed even more psychedelic due to the simulated light coming from the ponds beneath their feet. Light danced in waves, reflecting the ripples formed from the delicate floral-themed fountains streaming in more water.

"My best guess?" came the almost sarcastic whisper from the young man whose shoulder pressed up against her own.

Harley looked up to Red Hood, who stood almost identically to her with his back against the wall. This wall was made up of vines woven through a wrought-iron series of bars, flowers sticking out to cover most of the parts that were not alive. The vines themselves pulsed as they rustled around, practically dancing in place. Part of Harley relished in the movement, it letting her know at least something around her did not wish her harm.

Harley raised an eyebrow at her companion at his last comment.

 _Really, sarcasm?_

 _Now?_

While walking, they moved as swiftly as possible. Their last little road-block (the one made up of the two most sexually repressed teenagers she ever encountered) sidetracked them for longer than expected. So, when they entered the 'Floral Room', they might have turned the corners without heeding caution.

Thankfully, the group of intimidating individuals at the end of the hall did not see them while they froze and jumped behind the corner again.

Once fully out of sight again, the pair turned to each other to figure out what to do next. At Red Hood's response, Harley gave him a glare but did not speak.

Without opposition, the teenager continued. "Freeze's men," he answered.

Harley looked forward again, biting the corner of her lip nervously.

She was afraid he might say that.

Harley only got a quick glance at the small group, but she could see that they all wore thick hooded parkas and heavy combat boots, accompanied by gleaming chrome weaponry. The other hints indicating their allegiances was the stark whiteness of their uniforms, the balaclavas around their faces and the high-tech googles wrapped around their heads under the fur-lined hoods.

Unlike their leader, they wore a multitude of layers to insulated their body temperatures.

 _Did you honestly think he would travel alone?_

 _No … but I hoped he wouldn't stick around …_

 _Freeze's men?_

 _Nothing good about that._

As Harley readjusted the special package in her arms, her thoughts radiated towards the other infant she had been caring for, the one currently missing. That child's parents were also missing. And that information made Harley pause to think about her next course of action.

The blonde realized that her friend was potentially in trouble when she realized the plant mistress did not respond appropriately to people breaking into her home. When her newest comrade confirmed Ivy was missing, it only made Harley worry even more. And Harley realized that it was a distinct possibility that the source of mother and child's absence was none other than the father of that child.

Harley's suspicions became intensified as soon as she realized Freeze's men were present.

Currently, as helpful as this new information was, it was also a little premature. No matter what Harley discovered, she had another problem.

Glancing down, Harley gazed into the bright blue eyes of the baby. He stayed quiet as he suckled his pacifier, visibly breathing ever so softly. She felt the light tickle of his breath against her skin, and the way his little chest moved in and out. The small movement, and the feeling of his little heartbeat beneath her hands, the sheer softness of his body reminded her of how delicate he really was.

He was a baby.

A defenseless baby.

And Harley needed to get him to safety.

The presence of Freeze's men did not alarm Harley, it was where they stood that was the problem.

Their current destination was just on the other side of the room, a small door the only thing separating them. The vehicle would probably get Red Hood and Damian to safety, but it seemed that another delay was inevitable. And that delay was the group of hooded figures looming in the hallway.

Harley knew they needed to get past the group, but the group of menacing figures appeared like could take down dozen hockey players easily.

And they had guns that shot ice—literal ice, not just metaphorical there.

Hundreds of thoughts ran through Harley's brain. She needed a solution; she needed to come up with a way of solving this.

 _Can't go around …_

 _No … already tried that … how do you think we got here?_

 _Over?_

 _Nope … they'll see us—why do you think we didn't use that originally …?_

 _Can't go through either …_

 _Nope … baby, remember…?_

 _Then what do we do …?_

… _recalculating …_

 _You are no help!_

 _I am trying—what are you doing?!_

 _Will all of you just …_ _ **shut**_ _ **up**_ _!?_

A jingling of metal drew her attention, and Harley glanced over to her companion. The young man withdrew an ammo magazine from one of the numerous pockets decorating his outfit. As he discharged the one in the weapon on hand, he used the newest to reload. He pulled back the automatic firing pin to ready himself for battle, and Harley's eyes could not help but be distracted by the red and black beads wrapped around his wrist.

The silver crucifix attached to the end glistened in the light.

"Why do you wear that?" she suddenly asked quietly.

Harley knew it was not the proper time or place, but the words fell out before she could stop them. When they finally left her lips, she did not try to take them back. She simply looked up to the holes in his helmet where she knew his eyes laid behind.

As he moved to reload his second pistol, he glanced over to her silently. He stayed silent for a few moments, proceeding to adjust his weapons. After a few moments, he answered her.

"You mean, aside from being a good Catholic boy?" he asked, only half sarcastically.

Harley nodded. "You wear it pretty boldly for using those so quickly," she said, gesturing to his weapons.

Staring straight ahead, he took several more seconds before finally answering her. "It's a reminder," he replied, not even pausing to ask what Harley spoke of.

"Of?" Harley asked, her tone in no way harsh or forceful, instead filled with innocent wonder.

Another click from his weapons, and he placed the one in a holster under his shoulder. "A promise."

Harley felt the strangest feeling overcome her. That answer was filled with so much emotion, so many different possibilities. She did not know much about him, but she did know that normal young men his age did not speak with such depth. Harley also knew that one did not develop that way by having an easy life either.

Her eyes looked over to the scars that decorated his body. They littered his arms and shoulders, his neck and fingers. All bare skin seen was marked.

She looked around in front of her as the next words fell from her lips in a whisper. "Do you love Leni?"

His only response was a simple tilt of his head to look at her.

She took him aback.

Before he spoke again, Harley cut him off. "I don't have many people I love," she confessed, keeping her gaze ahead of her. "I choose the worst people to love—other people like breaking them."

The silence lingered again before he broke it, "People say that we are what we love," he spoke darkly for a moment. "And we love the people that we are."

Harley contemplated those words, analyzing their double meaning.

However, another question broke that line of thought; "Anyone break you?"

This time, she looked at him with tired eyes. Until that point, she did not realize how exhausted she felt. The air around her felt heavy. It was hardly the time to bring any of this up, but Harley absently felt the need to continue. If she said it, maybe the weight around her would leave as the words did.

"Yes," she finally answered.

Red Hood subtly nodded and without skipping a beat muttered, "Yes."

It was not a question.

Harley's brow wrinkled. "What?"

"You asked me if I love Helena, right?" he said as if it was the simplest thing to utter. He neither paused nor wavered in his next breath, his words as poignant as they were bold. "The answer is yes."

Harley did not restrain her small, genuine smile. "Really?"

He looked her in the eye. "More than anything."

And that was good enough for Harley.

 _Hook … line … sinker …_

 _Enough to knock anyone out …_

 _He's telling the truth …_

 _We might have to let him marry Leni now …_

Her smile grew with her next words. "And why is that?" she asked, the playful teasing side of hers emerging. "That you love her."

A raspy chuckle emerged from his throat. "What a question," came his normal mysterious and seductive tone.

Harley shrugged, grinning as she felt the air around her lighten. "I am the shrink, you know."

Another chuckle. "Well if you are, then you know there's really no answer to that question," he said simply. "We humans are unpredictable and illogical beasts. If I knew why, then it's not really love, is it?"

 _Smart …_

 _Too smart …_

 _Yep … gonna have to keep him around …_

Taking in a deep breath, Harley stood up straight as she smiled even wider. She felt her body surge with energy, her heartbeat picking up as a cleansing sensation ran through her system. There was a way through this, and she could do it.

A maniacal smile emerged on her face as she looked at him from the side, "You ready for this? Cause things are gonna get really crazy really quick."

Harley heard a click from his gun as the bullets slid into place. "Sounds like a blast."

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HxJ

JxH

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"Fate is like a strange, unpopular restaurant filled with odd little waiters who bring you things you never asked for and don't always like." **―** Lemony Snicket

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HxJ

JxH

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"Pammy!?"

The plan was simple enough. Since they had no means of moving their roadblock, Harley and her newest family member (Harley could not officially call him a nephew just yet, but she was working on it; weddings were so difficult to do on the fly) decided to get the roadblock to move itself.

Their predicament laid within the idea that Damian was still so fragile—being a baby after all. She and Red Hood were durable enough, so removing Damian from the current situation was necessary. To do that, they decided to pull the whole 'distraction' plan.

Red Hood listened to Harley's plan very well, and he followed through with her instructions quite nicely. After sending him up to one of the catwalks, she told him to fire off a few rounds in the direction of the small group standing in their way. The teenager effectively got their attention, beckoning them in his direction.

While he took off to avoid their icy blasts, Harley grinned as she saw the men begin to run off after him. Now all Red Hood had to do was get them to Ivy's girls (Lilith, Circe and Dolores) and trap them inside that little area before he backtracked to make it back to Harley.

In the meantime, Harley set out alone to take Damian to the next room. Once he was securely in his car-seat would she head back to make sure Red Hood was not eaten himself.

All Harley had to do was sneak up on the poor fool left behind by his friends.

As she felt the back of her pistol collide with his head, she heard a satisfying crack. He fell over onto the floor, unconscious before his body landed with a 'thunk'. Harley put her own gun back in its holster as she bent down to retrieve his weapon.

The gleaming metal pulsed with the same blue glow that she saw on Freeze only a little while ago. It first occurred to her that keeping it was a good idea, seeing as that just leaving it there would not help her once he woke up (she did not kill this one yet). However, she realized that ice might not have been the best with a normal baby.

So instead of taking it, she bashed it against the floor. Once the glowing liquid's container shattered, the gel-like substance trickled out and onto the floor, seeping down through the bars to the water below. The water underneath the grate almost instantly seized up, and a small section started to harden. Too bad it did not last long; the heated water melted the ice away rather quickly.

With the ice gun broken, Harley picked herself up to get going, however stopped dead when she saw something out of the corner of her eye.

And it was the form of her missing friend.

With an 'eep!', Harley pulled herself back and redirected her path.

As Harley entered the small alcove of flowers, she mentally cursed herself for not realizing something earlier; the thug left behind. There was a reason one stayed while the others left. The small group was only in this space for a reason; and that reason turned out to be none other than Poison Ivy herself.

However, Harley highly doubted that a normal welcoming into a home was to render the hostess unconscious and tie her to a chair.

The redhead sat alone in the center of the space, sitting on a little chair with her head slumped forward. "Pammy!" Harley repeated in a whisper as she rushed over to her friend. "Are you okay?"

Long magenta hair veiling her face, Harley did not notice until upon closer inspection that her friend was unconscious; she could not answer.

The room that Harley found herself in was what Ivy considered a sort of 'sitting' room. The small space was decorated with antique metal furniture suitable for an outside garden, but the pieces themselves looked like they were better suited for inside. A few couches sat in a semicircle, gathered together for discussion. The side and coffee tables were speckled with stained glass, and everything was of course in a floral theme. Harley liked the space; the furniture literally looked like flowers made of metal and bent for humans to sit upon.

Unfortunately, she did not like her friend sitting in the center of the room like that.

Harley instantly placed little Damian down on the first couch she found. She needed both her hands free. She wrapped the blanket around him tightly, and secured it to the arm of the seat. The furniture was not baby-friendly, and she wanted to make sure he did not fall to the floor.

Once she knew he was secure, Harley rushed over to Ivy. She lifted Ivy's head up to examine her, warmth and movement letting her know she was in the very least alive. Harley attempted to lightly pat her face to wake her, but the redhead could only groan. The gag around her mouth not only limited her words, it seemed it had a restraining purpose as well.

Harley remembered the tie; it was used on suicidal patients so they did not bite their tongues off.

The blonde went to undo it, but the gag was held together with a metal lock at the back of Ivy's head.

Harley's eyes traveled around to the back of her friend's form where she saw the other things holding her onto the chair. Ivy's arms were awkwardly linked up behind her and securely chained to the iron chair back. Harley would have simply taken Ivy and the chair with her (to find something to free her) but the chains around Ivy's wrists looped around her midsection, and then trailed down to her feet. Oddly, Ivy was missing her shoes, her bare feet secured to each other in addition to being linked to the grated floor beneath her.

"Damnit," Harley cursed under her breath as she bent over, quickly scanning each lock.

Maybe she could pick them.

Harley spotted a gleaming bit of metal in her friend's hair. Instantly, she grabbed the hair ornament and broke off a piece of the metal. It was long, thin and sturdy—Ivy would forgive her for mutilating her hair piece later.

Heart racing, Harley worked as quickly as possible as she worked at the lock. Normally she was very good at it, but in that instance, she was rushed.

She only had so long to do this.

Harley did not need to assume who did this to her friend. From the guards at the door, everything became clear to her. Freeze obviously … did not come just to talk to Ivy. The location of the cryogenics scientist remained a mystery to Harley, but she knew that there was a reason he left Ivy in that place.

He would return; if not for his men, then for Ivy.

Harley finally felt the metal slide into place only a second before she heard her friend moan. The blonde looked up, peering around to see Ivy's eyes opening. "Pammy!" she whispered. "Are you hurt?"

Harley realized her friend could not give a vocal response, but she half hoped for a shake or nod of the head.

For several moments, Ivy blinked as she stared out at Harley. The blonde knelt to examine her friend. She reached her hands up on either side of her head, using her fingers to open the redhead's eyes wider to assess the damage. Ivy did not look injured, but she wanted to make sure.

Something made her lose consciousness.

Harley paused in her examination of her friend when she heard Ivy let out a noise. She placed herself in front of the redhead, wanting her to see her. "Ivy?" she asked this time.

Green eyes focused onto the blonde, and as soon as she was competent, Ivy jerkily nodded to the side. She made a sound of trying to speak, but was immediately throttled from the restraint.

"What is it?" Harley questioned.

Ivy locked eyes with her, gaze serious as she thrust her chin forward behind Harley.

The blonde caught on; Ivy was trying to point out something by the door.

The second she connected the dots, Harley stood up to turn around.

She took in a very deep breath that she started to hold as she saw the newest presence in the room.

Crimson lips spread wide in a smile to reveal silver teeth. "Hello, Harley," growled the deep voice of the figure looming by the doorway.

Before she could fathom a response, Harley felt her body take a step back involuntarily, her hand lingering on her friend's shoulder.

 _Uh-oh …_

 _Not good, not good, not good …_

 _THIS IS BAD!_

 _He's back …_

Harley only stood silent as the shadowy figure came into the light, smile intensifying as he cocked his head to the side.

"You know, dollface, you are a difficult woman to track down," the clown practically sang, raising a finger almost as if to scold her.

Harley felt herself step back, her body moving before she had time to come up with an idea. Before she knew it, the newest addition to the room was slowly trailing after her as she circled around the very uncomfortable-looking Ivy still sitting between them.

"You don't call, don't write—you were at least supposed to leave your number or something …"

Harley opened her mouth to speak. She did not know what she would say, but she knew she had to say something. However, what cut her off was a completely different source than the green-haired man in front of her.

The noise was oddly disturbing, despite nonthreatening in any way.

Both Harley and Joker's heads snapped in the direction it came from. Harley's eyes widened, and she felt her tongue fall back into her mouth.

It felt like she swallowed it.

She looked back to the clown, however he moved quicker than her. "Now what do we have here?" he voiced as he took a few steps to the side.

A hallow feeling formed in the middle of her stomach as she saw him close in on the little ball in the corner.

 _Not … good._

 _Not good._

 _ **Not** **good**!_

Before she could act, Joker picked up the baby. Damian's pacifier was missing, and the source of the small sound the infant made only moments before. As the clown held Damian at his hip, he raised one of his hairless brows at the baby, looking more curious than anything.

"Hello there," he greeted the child, like it could understand him. "What's your name?"

The feeling inside Harley intensified. Millions of things raced through her brain. From the buzzing voices, to images of what would come, the multitude of things she thought about seemed almost infinite.

She needed to do something.

Harley only vaguely processed the things she saw in front of her as events unfolded. She heard speaking, and saw a stark white figure in the corner. She only absently processed Freeze's presence, seeing as Harley's focus was on the baby he held.

Two babies, both being held by notorious criminals. Ones that may or may not wish them harm.

There was absolutely no way to keep Damian safe if these two learned the identity of his father.

Batman.

The vigilante who may or may not have been in the building at that very moment.

The same man who was also responsible for dragging both Joker and Freeze off to jail on at least one occasion.

Shit.

Even if Harley told the truth and said he belonged to Cat, he still would not be safe. Cat was notorious in her own right; she had her own enemies. That, and there was the fact that Cat was infamous for her flings with the baby's father.

The dark knight.

Even as the clown spoke to Freeze, Harley realized that getting the baby away from him would be next to impossible. But how was she supposed to explain Damian? Joker wanted to know who he was, and what he was doing there. Joker would not be happy without an answer.

With Ivy tied up, her bodyguard still missing and babies being used as literal shields, Harley was running out of solutions.

But she knew she had to do something.

And Joker still wanted an answer to his question.

Harley stared at him as he closed in on her once again. "Who might this little one be?" he asked, merrily looking at Harley.

The blonde felt her mouth moving, immediately regretting the words falling out. "He's mine," she stated plainly.

It seemed even the infants quieted at this.

The only response came from Joker as his tone suddenly dropped. "Come … again?"

The sound made Harley's insides quiver some more. However, it seemed that she was a glutton for punishment, because she proceeded to dig her own grave.

Harley stared at him in the eye. A maniacal smile emerged on her face, determination in her eyes as she glared at him. "You heard me," she almost sang. "He's … _mine_."

 _This … is not going to end well …_

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(Author's Note:

If this chapter isn't long enough ...

I want to thank everyone for reading this. I am deeply sorry about the delay. I am sure that more than one of you are affected by the season.

I wish to make a word of caution. I am aware that the last chapter seemed a little odd to many of you, but I assure you that I choose to give you certain scenes for a reason, and it is for more reasons than me liking the character. Of course I like the characters-I like all my characters. Even the horrible characters I learn to like, seeing as disdain for characters reflects in one's writing.

And as for the last chapter, I focused on Huntress because her presence is going away for a little while. Her character is important to the story, but from now on she is only going to be momentarily popping up from time to time whenever she is needed. Consider the things I have told you as food for thought as to what she is going to be up to.

Although I am giving you a lot of directions to look, I do have a reason. This is Harley's story, and she has her own problems, thoughts and feelings. What is going on in the world around her is just as important as her dealings with Mr. J.

Speaking of which-yes, he's back! Please go easy on me. The last few chapters were all a build-up for this chapter. And to be honest, I added more scenes just to give you more of him.

Thank you again for reading, but please do not expect a chapter this long with each update. Hands are hurting from all the typing ...)

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